


It's a Better Place (Since You Came Along)

by phdmama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bonding, Coming in pants OF COURSE, Cruising, H/L Exchange 2016, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Like on a ship, M/M, Magic, Magical Accidents, NMEs, Poorly Executed Hair Drying Charms, Rimming, Small Explosions, Soulbonds, Soulmates, Vaction Sized Margaritas, but just a bit, magical au, recreational alcohol use, side Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:32:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: When Harry Styles, a mid-level talent, Finder, and small business owner, sets off on the vacation of a lifetime with his best friend, Niall Horan, he has no idea the changes his life will undergo over the next nine days. He's got it all planned - there's going to be shore excursions, lounging by the pool on the deck of the luxurious cruise ship, not to mention margaritas. What he does not plan for are the new friends, new bonds, or the mystery from his past that comes back to haunt him, and he certainly hasn't planned for Louis.





	1. Prologue (September 2017) & Day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CalamityK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/gifts).



> This fic was written as pinch hit for the [H/L Exchange 2016](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/HL_2016_Fic_Exchange) for [CalamityK](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK) for the following prompt:
> 
>   _Louis is a minor magical person (Doesn't quite know what he is yet, knows he's something) and his best friends Zayn and Liam, who are the Witching World's hottest it couple and two of the most powerful witches, drag him along on a witching voyage. It's pretty much this big magical meet and greet adventure that begins with a cruise._  
>  _Harry is a pretty adept witch and Niall is a summoner, which is a magical person that works best in rituals and when things/people need to be summoned. They are a team and they end up knowing Zayn and Liam, start hanging out with them._  
>  _Louis and Harry don't like each other, (mishaps happen everytime they meet) Louis somehow keeps setting Harry's magic off, and making it go wonky, and Harry's presence makes Louis's abilities pop out._  
>  _Make it a big clusterfuck adventure fic, where they are on a tropical cruise that stops and turns into a country-visiting type deal. Just lots of great travel things, and the witching world. In the ends it turns out that Louis's abilities, and Harry's magic have a direct link, and they're soulmates or something._  
>  _You can make little mix characters, they'd make cool witches/magical beings._  
>  So. This fic spiraled completely out of control. I don’t even know what happened. I did stray a bit (well, a fair amount) from the prompt as the story didn’t end up revolving around the travel stuff but it’s most definitely on a cruise! Gosh, I really hope you like it as I just loved writing it.  
> A huge, HUGE thank you to my advance readers and beta: [taggiecb](https://taggiecb.tumblr.com/), [lululawrence](lululawrence.tumblr.com), [letsjustsee](https://letsjustsee.tumblr.com/), and of course, [femmequixotic](http://femmequixotic.tumblr.com/) and [noeeon](http://noeeon.tumblr.com/).  
> This is a work of fiction, I own none of these characters and am not profiting off of this work! It’s meant only to entertain. Please do not break the fourth wall, or post this work anywhere else. I am not approving any translations at this time.  
>    
> As always, the words, as well as the errors, are mine.

**September 2017**

Harry enters the apartment, and drops his shopping bags onto the floor with a sigh. A flick of his wand sets the kettle to heating, and he yawns and stretches, jamming the wand into the holster strapped between his shoulder blades. He’s always preferred a back carry to the more modern wrist sheaths that so many of his colleagues seem to favor these days, and don’t even get him  _ started _ on thigh holsters. Only assholes wear thigh holsters, in his opinion, because in order to accommodate them, you need to wear really tight pants. Not that Harry doesn’t appreciate a tight pair of jeans as much as the next man, but still. It’s showy, is all.

In any case, he has about an hour before he has to get back downstairs to the office to set up for his evening clients, and he makes a mental note to text Niall to remind him that they have jobs booked for the evening. It’s 5:30, and with a week left before the fall equinox, there’s still more than an hour of daylight left, and the apartment is flooded with the golden haze of a late summer day in Boston. Harry flips on the overhead lights anyway — the light starts to fade fast this time of year, and he hates being caught in the dark. He makes his way out to his small living room and drops down onto the couch, pulling out his phone as he sits. He’s got a busy weekend of appointments scheduled in anticipation of his vacation next week. He gives a wiggle of excitement as he thinks about it, a nine-day cruise to the Caribbean that he and Niall have been looking forward to for well over a year. It’s almost here and he cannot wait.

He shoots Niall a quick text to remind him about their schedule and gets a thumbs-up in return. Sighing again, he shoves his phone into his pocket and heads back into the kitchen, snagging his groceries as he goes. He sets the bag on his small table, and waving his wand behind him, he gets to work. Cupboards open and close quietly as the kettle pours his tea, and a sandwich slowly assembles itself on the counter as he goes through his purchases. He puts aside the things he’ll require for the rituals this evening, and puts the rest of the groceries away, hoping he hasn’t purchased more than he’ll need for the next few days. He feels restless, unsettled somehow, and wonders if he’s picking up on something in the air.

Grabbing his tea and sandwich, Harry heads back into the living room to take a seat at the desk and pull up his case notes for the evening. Harry runs his own business — his Finder talent is a modest one, good for inanimate objects only, and typically small ones, though Harry did Find his neighbor’s cat once. He’s actually not really sure he should have been given credit for that, as Gerald had apparently sneaked into the shop after him and gone to sleep in the corner and Harry hadn’t noticed him until he’d opened the shop the next day, but Ed had been ecstatic. Tonight he’s got a lost necklace, a lost checkbook and, oh shit, a lost lovey. He doesn’t like those cases, they tend to be fraught with emotion. 

He lets himself dream for a moment, picking up the glossy brochure that’s been lying on his desk for a good six months now. The sky in the photo is an impossibly clear blue, not a cloud to be seen, and it’s reflected in the water of the ocean and the swimming pool. The models are tan, with the whitest teeth Harry has ever seen, and they’re all smiling, holding up fruity tropical drinks, and laughing. They’ve all got luxury wands, gleaming with inlaid enamel or mother-of-pearl, and one even looks to have an emerald embedded in the hand grip. Harry glances down at his own wand, a nice serviceable oak, carved with leaves,  that’s currently smudged and messy,  and sighs. He can definitely swing by the wand polisher in the Harvard Square T stop before he goes. 

In any case, he sets down the brochure and pushes himself to standing. He might as well head downstairs and start getting set up. At least the lovey Find is a remote, that'll make it a bit easier, especially since he has eight Finds scheduled for tomorrow. That is going to suck. 

He loves the fact that he lives over his workplace, though there are times when he realizes that he hasn’t left the block in days. At least he gets out of the apartment because there’s no interior access to the store, so he has to go outside to go downstairs to work, which, he’s decided, counts as actually out. His last boyfriend had complained during their breakup that dating Harry was like dating an 80 year old, so set in his ways there was no room for anything, or anyone, new. Harry doesn’t agree, but he has to admit, he does like sticking close to home. He likes things...the way he likes them, okay? With a modest talent like his, he’s got to work harder, do better, do  _ more _ than some more flash talent, which doesn’t leave him a lot of time for the other things in life that matter to him, like friends, or volunteer work. Or love. And, in his own defense, having a secondary gift of haptic empathy means that he has to be very careful about who he touches. 

Oh well, he’s got Niall, he’s got his work, and hopefully when his business gets more settled, that will give him more time to figure the rest out. And, in three days, he’ll have the sun, the water, and a tropical drink, just like those models, even if he doesn’t have some fancy wand. 

Three hours later, Harry ushers Rick and Renee Majors out of his shop, as he accepts their thanks. It’s been a successful evening, and this last Finding had only taken six minutes, including building the circle, which may be a new record for him. The checkbook, it turned out, is in Rick’s desk drawer at work and they are going to swing by his office on their way home to grab it. Harry reminds them, “If somehow it’s not there, feel free to text me and I’ll run the Find again,” as he’d sends them on their way. He’d also Found Anna’s lost necklace under her bed, where it had fallen when the chain had snapped in her sleep, and Clementine’s lovey had been left at Grandma’s, stashed in the coat closet during a massive game of hide and seek. 

He shuts the door, locks it, and flipping off the neon open sign, turns to face the space that houses his business. He’s got a small waiting area, furnished simply with a couple of couches from Ikea and a long, low table between them. There’s a desk facing out to the room, where he can settle accounts without clients being able to see his computer screen, which comes in handy when he has a break and is reading soulmate fanfic. In the corner, he’s got a coffee station and a water cooler, as well as a magazine rack, in case he’s running late. There’s a tiny restroom off to the right, and then the door to his working room opens to left. He loves the space he’s created back there. The room is spacious, stretching the width of the back half of the building, and has large windows on three sides that look out to the buildings on the left and right, and the small garden in the back, where he grows most of his herbs, all but the really finicky stuff that doesn’t like Massachusetts weather. It’s simply furnished with more sofas from Ikea, and a sizeable working area in the middle of the room where he can create as big a circle as he might need.

Niall comes out from the workroom. “That went really well, Harry,” he says, smiling and Harry grins back.

They’ve been friends since grade school, and when they were assessed at 12 and it was clear that their talents were compatible, there was never a question but that they would work together. Niall, like Harry, is twinned talent, though he’s classified as shield and a general amp. Amps function exactly as the name implies, they amplify other specific talents, and as a freelance general amp, Niall can, and often does, work with other practitioners, but he typically prefers to partner with Harry. While he’s a decent, though not particularly high level Amp, it’s his function as a Shield that Harry finds even more invaluable. Niall can shield Harry’s gift of empathy from him, as long as they’re touching, which means that Harry can do things like go out into crowds as long as he holds Niall’s hand. They don’t tend to need Niall’s shield abilities at work, and luckily, his amp factor is proximity-based but not touch-dependant, so it works out well. There’s such an advantage to working with someone when you have the kind of history and complementary talents that he and Niall have, and Harry never wants to be without him.

“I know,” he stretches, feeling his shoulders pop and his back cracks loudly in the room. “Merlin, I’m so glad that everything was Findable.”

Harry’s got a nonrefundable policy, like all Finders do. The only times where that doesn’t come into play are when he truly cannot Find the object, and those cases, there are some typical reasons for why that might be. His policy covers him in cases where the item is  _ Findable, _ but it’s not  _ retrievable. _ He can’t tell you how many wedding rings he’s located in the sands of various beaches of the world. Found, but still lost.

He doesn’t know why sometimes he’s not successful, why he can’t always Find what’s been lost. It’s not usually a matter of distance as he’s located things as far away as Greece and Australia, and often in these cases — usually in fact — it’s clear from the vision that the item has been destroyed somehow. Typically, he can figure out the circumstances, which helps bring people peace of a sort, but then there are the dark cases where there’s just nothing, and those are the cases that tend to keep him up at night. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, and he still thinks about them.

He remembers the last dark case he’d had, almost a year ago. A sad-faced woman named Maureen Sullivan had hired him to Find a necklace her daughter had lost, a gold Tree of Life charm of the sort given to babies on their naming day, and he’d gotten  _ nothing. _ Not one glimpse, not even an uninterpretable vision. When she’d shaken his hand after refunding her fee, he’d been hit with an overwhelming flood of despair emanating from her, and had known there was much she wasn’t telling him. He’d also been pretty sure he didn’t want to know, if that brief glimpse into her heart was any indication of the pain she was living with, and he’d given special thanks that night that his gift was empathy and not telepathy. Her face flashes into Harry’s mind and he shakes his head, trying to shed the sadness he always feels when he thinks of her, and sends a small prayer of goodwill to the universe. Unlike those wedding rings in the sand, Maureen’s daughter’s necklace remains lost.

*****

By Sunday night, Harry is exhausted. He’s served sixteen clients in the last forty-eight hours, and been successful in 14 of them. Unfortunately, it had turned out that the lost wedding ring was at the home of the woman that the man was having an affair with, so that had been unpleasant, but it happens enough that Harry’s developed a protocol that’s mainly focused on getting both people out of his workroom as soon as possible so that their negative energy doesn’t contaminate his space. He still has to cleanse, of course, but usually he can continue to work. 

Of the two things he couldn’t Find this weekend, one had turned out to have been the result of a communication error, as it was a computer file and not a hard copy that he was supposed to locate. The file had clearly been lost in a tragic hard-drive-meets-soda incident, (to which the mother of the college student had been furious at her son for wasting her time and money, and they’d left shouting), and the other had been a set of love letters that the woman’s grandparents had written, and all Harry had gotten was a vision of a nest of mice, which was pretty self-explanatory.

He makes his way over to where Niall is sitting plopped down on the couch reading a magazine, waiting for him to finish closing down the workspace. He drops down and slumps over, resting his head on Niall’s thigh, pleased at the warm glow that’s emanating from him. It’s happiness, tinged with exhaustion and a thread of excitement. Niall doesn’t look away from his magazine, simply runs his fingers through Harry’s messy hair and says, “You all packed, pet?”

Harry closes his eyes. “Nope, not totally, but I did all my laundry yesterday, so it won’t take too long. Merlin, Niall, I’m so fucking excited for this, I can’t even tell you.”

Niall sets down the magazine, some weird interior decorating thing that Harry doesn’t recognize and wonders fleetingly how it came to his waiting room. He notes that there’s a ridiculous attractive man on the cover who manages to combine puppyish earnestness with a smoking hot bod and biceps that Harry would like to lick, for science. 

“Same, my bro, same.” Niall stretches, his leg shifting under Harry’s head, who frowns as he’s jostled. 

Harry knows he should peel himself off of Niall, should get himself upstairs, start and finish packing, eat something, clean out his fridge. Basically, he needs to get done all the things on his to-do list before he leaves for nine days, not to mention finish cleansing the workspace, but he’s really tired. Niall pokes him and Harry grumbles. 

“Don’t wanna. I’m tired.” 

“C’mon,” Niall stands, forcing Harry to sit up so that he’s not dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. “We’ve got to be up at the asscrack of dawn, and you have stuff to do. Go finish closing the space, and then we can head out.”

So Harry does. After he finishes shutting down the workroom and sealing it off, he and Niall wander out the door and into the dark of the evening. It’s almost 9:30 and he’s been at work for close to twelve hours. Niall heads off. He lives about three blocks from Harry in a rundown apartment with several roommates. Harry knows he doesn’t love it, but also knows that as close as he and Niall are, they wouldn’t do well as roommates. It’s not that he hasn’t offered, but when he suggested that Niall move into the small one-bedroom apartment upstairs with him, Niall had just stared at him and then laughed himself hoarse before saying, “Uh, no, Harry, I love you, but no.”

It’s true, Harry likes his living space neat and organized, some might even call him a bit compulsive, while Niall takes a more casual approach to matters of home and hearth. The thing is, Harry often finds the world overwhelming and chaotic. Thankfully, as a haptic empath, his gift requires touch to activate, but you’d be surprised how often you end up brushing against strangers in day-to-day life, and Harry’s been subject to so many emotions that at times, he’s not always been sure where others ended and he begins. As a result, he can’t tolerate too much mess, and he often needs time to himself to recharge. So it’s true, living in close quarters with someone, anyone, even his best friend who is the single most even-keeled person Harry’s ever met, wouldn’t be good for him, but he’d had to try. 

Niall had just smiled when he’d finally stopped laughing and given Harry the little hand signal they’d developed when they were nine, which meant “I’m here with you, I’m your friend, you’re okay.” He’d said, “Harry, I love you like a brother, but you can’t live with another person, unless you find someone you can’t read.” Harry had rolled his eyes at that, knowing the likelihood of finding his soulmate was slim in this day and age. 

Harry watches Niall disappear into the darkness and glances at his watch. Niall is going to be back in about 6 hours to pick him up for their early morning flight, and he has a lot to do. Suddenly he’s energized by a flush of excitement as he thinks about what awaits him on the other end of the flight: nine days of lounging, drinking, hanging out in their floating hotel, checking out the amazing ports of call (even if he has to do that holding Niall’s hand), and, if he’s lucky, finding an attractive companion who’s psychically quiet enough for Harry to shag. They’re few and far between, unfortunately, and Harry’s never had the experience of being with someone without empathy leakage, which isn’t so bad when his partner is into it, but if he’s not? Well, let’s say that’s a...deflating experience that Harry has had more than once. Being able to read your partner’s emotions by touch is not, it turns out, as much of a turn-on as Harry might have hoped, either for himself or the other party, so Harry’s learned to make do with WizardBoi and his right hand.

Harry spends the rest of the night getting ready to go. He packs, carefully removing the tags from the new swimsuits and summer clothes he’s gotten specially for this vacation, and checks three times to make sure he’s packed his sunscreen. He optimistically slips in the jumbo-sized bottle of lube he’s just purchased (he can’t stand the conjured stuff, it always comes out too thin and makes a huge mess) and reminds himself that he’s going to have to check his suitcase, as the bottle is way over the 3 oz carry-on limit. 

**DAY 1**

4 am comes far, far too soon, and Harry’s well-aware he’s not looking his best. He’s always preferred to travel in comfy clothing, so he’s wearing well-worn track pants, a baggy t-shirt and a large hoodie that he’s had since college, which used to be a lovely deep fuchsia, but has faded to sad, pale version of its former glory. Grabbing his suitcase and carry-on, he takes one last look at his apartment, then, turning off the lights and locking the door, he heads out into the chill of the predawn morning to wait for Niall.

By the time the Lyft driver drops them at Logan, Harry’s lack of sleep is catching up to him and he’s almost staggering as they check their bags, get their wands weighed and make their way through security. Niall pops into the gift shop for some gum, and they wander down the terminal to their gate.

It’s a fairly quick flight from Boston to Miami, only about hour, most of which is spent getting up to transitional speed and altitude. Harry has never really understood the physics of wizarding planes, how the planes move slightly interdimensionally in order to shorten the travel time between two places, he just trusts that the pilots know what they're doing. It’s gotten much safer since the early days of air travel and it’s really very rare that a plane ends up wildly off course, like in France or something, so Harry is not too worried. 

All that is to say that it’s barely 7:30 in the morning when they’ve collected their baggage and made their towards the airport exit and Harry finally says, “Niall, remind me again why we had to get up and leave at the asscrack of dawn to get into Miami this early when, if I’m recalling correctly, we can’t get onto the boat until noon?”

Niall reaches over with the hand that Harry’s not currently holding to flick Harry’s nose, who gives a small cry of annoyance, “We left this early because this flight was $200 cheaper, you idiot, and it was  _ you _ who pointed out that that was a whole lot of shore excursion funding. You’re also the one who said they were sure we’d find a place to hang out, and that it would be fine, so don’t fucking complain. And it’s a ship, not a boat.”

Harry can feel that Niall’s more amused than irritated, but there is sense of exhaustion coming off of him as well, so Harry just shuts up and nods when Niall fixes him with a steely-eyed glare and Niall nods firmly.

They find a cab to take them over to the marina where the cruise ship is docked and Harry gives a faint cry of relief at the sight of the beautiful, shiny Starbucks that’s right there, right on the way. If he wants to have chance at staying awake until they get settled in their cabin, he’s going to need coffee, and a lot of it. He could cast a small energizing spell, but like all magic, you pay for the energy you use to cast, so those tend to be a net loss for Harry, given his power levels. Coffee is a sure thing, and it’s right there, so he and Niall have the cab drop them off at the door, and hauling all their things with them, trundle into the shop.

They order their drinks, and Harry presses his wand to the wand-reader before Niall can get his wand out of his wrist sheath and smirks. “I told you those things are too slow.” 

Niall shrugs and says “Yeah, but you paid, didn’t you?” and Harry frowns. Niall has got a point there, actually. They look around for a place to sit, but the shop is relatively crowded. There’s a large table at the back where there’s a group of three guys camped out, with luggage strewn around them, not an unusual sight, Harry things, given their proximity to the marina. There are several seats open at the table, and when Niall says, “Let’s sit there,” Harry just shrugs in agreement, too tired at this point to care, and follows Niall back.

He listens to Niall asking cheerfully, “Hey guys, can we take the other end of this table?”, hears the other men agree happily, and sinks into the chair with a groan, letting his head come down to rest on his arms. The only problem is that he can’t drink his venti vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso from this position, but as his eyes drift closed, he finds he doesn’t care all that much. It’ll still be there in a few minutes.

He vaguely hears one of the other guys at the table say, “Is he okay?” and as Niall’s voice rumble comfortingly in his ear from somewhere above him, Harry lets himself drift for a moment.

Harry blinks his way to consciousness a bit later, not sure how long he’s been dozing. It’s been long enough that the guys sitting at the table are gone, and Niall is leaning back in his chair, reading something on his Kindle that’s making him snort. Harry drags himself upright and takes a sip of his coffee, which is still hot. Oh, bless him, Niall’s cast a stasis charm to keep it warm.

“How long was I down?” he asks, taking another big sip of coffee and wondering vaguely about breakfast.

Niall looks up. “I don’t know, maybe a half hour or so? You just dropped though. Turns out those guys that were sitting here? They’re on the cruise too. One of them had some last-minute shopping to do, so they left, but we’re gonna meet up for dinner tonight, isn’t that great?”

Harry shakes his head, smiling, because that is Niall to the core. Strangers are simply friends he hasn’t made yet, and so far, Harry hasn’t met the person who won’t succumb to his charm. “Sounds awesome,” he says easily.

They pass the morning at Starbucks, eating overpriced pastries and drinking too much coffee, and in no time at all, it seems, they gather their things to head over to the ship for boarding. Harry’s heart is pounding, though from excitement, exhaustion or caffeine overdose, he’s really not sure. 

“I can’t believe we’re here,” he says, grabbing Niall’s hand as they prepare to exit, just to be on the safe side. 

“I know,” Niall said and Harry can feel the excitement and anticipation rolling off of him in waves.

They join the mass of people making their way slowly up the wide ramp into the boarding area, and Harry has never been more thankful to have Niall’s particular gifts literally shielding him as people press into him on all sides. Niall’s not able to block out entirely the push of emotions hammering him on all sides as people brush by him, there are far too many people and too much is happening, but Niall’s touch takes it down to just an echo of feelings nudging at the back of Harry’s mind. Thankfully, as far as Harry can tell, just about everyone is feeling a mix of joy, relief, anticipation, and whoa, enough lust in that guy to get his own cock half-hard as he pushes by Harry to wrap his arms around a woman who from the outside looks only ordinary to Harry, but to this man, she’s everything.

Harry feels his heart ache a bit as he watches the joyful reunion. He’s always longed to fall in love, yearned to find that one person he could connect to, the person who could make the world go quiet. Harry’s read the research, and he knows that it’s tough for empaths to find lasting physical relationships with people who aren’t their soulmate. It’s a bit easier for those who are haptic, like him, but still, a life with very little touch can be kind of lonely at times. Sure he’s got friends, his family, people he  _ knows _ he’s got soulbonds with, that’s very clear, but to find your soul _ mate,  _ that’s a different thing. He’s tried to cultivate a philosophical attitude to the whole topic, has tried to live in the moment and trust that the universe will bring his soulmate to him if or when he’s ready, but it’s hard to wait and there’s no guarantee. Many people never meet their soulmates. All this is to say, he’s not particularly hopeful that he’ll be meeting his own soulmate on a Caribbean cruise.

He feels a sudden bolt of sexually-tinged excitement and is confused until he realizes that it’s coming from Niall, and turns, as Niall tugs him forward to the check-in kiosk, looking around to see if he can spot who Niall is looking at, but no one stands out, it’s just a crowd of colorfully dressed wizards, all eager to get on board and start vacationing in earnest.

Niall pulls him up to the kiosk and without saying anything, Harry hands over his wand, so that Niall can check them both in. The kiosk spits out some papers and and then they’re headed to the bank of glass elevators that will whisk them to their room on Deck 10. They’ve splurged on a deluxe ocean statement room that has a private balcony. 

They make their way off the elevator and Niall says, “It’s room 1060,” and Harry nods, hoping he’ll remember the number. He follows Niall who indicates it’s down the hallway to the right as they come off the elevator. It turns out that their room is almost as far away from the elevator as possible, it’s the second to last door on their side. By the time they approach their door, Harry finally feels safe enough to let go of Niall’s hand, as the crowd that had exited the elevator with them has dispersed as people have found their own rooms. Niall drags his wand across the locking pad just above the door handle, there’s brief but intense flash of purple light that leaves Harry blinking and then Niall is opening the door as he says, “The lock should be keyed to both our wands now, but we’ll check it later to make sure.”

They push their way into the room and Harry’s jaw drops. It’s small, of course, he’d expected that, but for all its diminutive size, it’s gorgeous. There are two twin beds, made up separately, with crisp white linens and matching duvet covers with a jaunty nautical blue stripe. The beds take up most of the floorspace of the room. There’s a bathroom off to the left, built-in cupboards and drawers made of gleaming maple, for storing their things, a large screen tv and, oh, Harry gives a cry of delight, dropping his things onto one of the beds as he dashes for the sliders that lead out to their very own, teeny, tiny slice of paradise. The cruise line has managed to wedge onto their little balcony not only a table and two chairs and a drying rack for their swimsuits, but a couple of comfy-looking cushioned chaise lounges as well. It’s a tight fit, but well worth it. Harry leans out over the railing to warm his face in the sun, his eyes closing in pleasure. They’ll definitely have the promised ocean view and Harry knows in this moment that it’s worth every penny they’ve paid. There are sturdy louvered blinds that separate them from their neighbors on either side, and Harry makes a mental note that they’ll have to keep their voices down a bit, as the blinds seem to provide the illusion of privacy rather than the actual thing. Maybe they’ve got built-in privacy charms? He’ll have to check that out later. In any case, it’s okay, because most likely Niall will work his magic and by the end of the cruise, or the end of today even, they’ll have new friends. He stares around him, drinking in the sights of the marina, the cruise ship spread out before him like a fairytale kingdom and then turns to call delightedly back into the room to Niall, “This is amazing, Nialler. We’re going to have so much fun.” He can hear the joy in his own voice, and if he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if he were having a bit of a prophetic vision because he just feels so excited and hopeful, like in this moment, nothing can possibly go wrong.

As he heads back into their little cabin, he hears a voice from the balcony next to theirs calling out, “Liam, mate, this is  _ sick, _ come check out the view,” and he smiles because yes, the unknown man is absolutely correct, they are going to have a sick view. So much for privacy charms though.

The next hour or so is spent getting settled into their rooms, which mainly means that Harry unpacks both his and Niall’s things, and stows their suitcases into the small closet provided for them while Niall lies on the bed and reads out to Harry all the amenities and possible activities they can enjoy over the next nine days, as if Harry hasn’t had the entire brochure memorized for months. By the time Harry’s moved to getting their toiletries settled in the miniscule bathroom, Niall’s reduced to just yelling out phrases like “Spa, Harry!” and “Climbing wall” and “Jesus Christ, check out this movie theater,” and Harry can’t stop smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. 

By now, it’s mid-afternoon — they’re going to be departing soon, and Harry is starving. He and Niall change into casual clothes and decide to head up to Deck 11, which has the various pools, and a huge open air café where they can get some food. One of the reasons they’d chosen the Royal Wizarding Cruise Line is that  _ everything _ is included, including liquor and spa treatments. Harry plans to have a massage or some sort of fancy treatment every single day, while Niall plans to sample every cocktail he can get his hands on. 

Since they’re on Deck 10, and they’re headed to Deck 11, Harry asks if they can take the stairs, wanting to avoid the press of crowds in the elevator. He’s a little apprehensive, to be honest, as to how he’s going to manage this without holding Niall’s hand the entire time, but when he voices this concern, Niall just shrugs. 

“Why wouldn’t you hold my hand, Harry?” he asks reasonably. “We’ve been holding hands since we were assessed thirteen years ago.” He gives Harry a warm smile and Harry wonders what on earth he’s done to deserve such a gift as Niall Horan.

“But what if you find someone else you want to hold hands with?” Harry asks.

“Got two hands, don’t I?” Niall grins and gives Harry a quick squeeze of reassurance, warmth and affection radiating from him. “Harry, c’mon, don’t worry about it, okay? It’s going to be fine.”

As they stow their wands and get ready to leave, Harry sighs. “It’s too bad you’re not my soulmate, Ni,” he says, “That would have been so nice.”

Niall cackles at this and says, “And that, my dear Harry, is exactly how we know I’m not your soulmate, because I don’t think you want things with your soulmate to be  _ nice.”  _

Harry just shrugs because, to be honest, he can’t imagine what...things with his soulmate could be like. He’s never really seen the big deal about sex, another thing he and Niall have bonded over. It’s  _ okay, _ he thinks, he’s certainly enjoyed it well-enough the few times he’s gotten close enough to someone to have it, but in all honesty, he’s just as happy on his own. When he’d been younger, he’d been more open to touch and being close to others, but he’s had one too many experiences where he’s picked up on things he hasn’t wanted to Read. He thinks a bit wistfully that nice would be, well,  _ nice, _ and might be all he can hope for. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll find someone and it’ll be... _ really _ nice. 

He gives one last look in the mirror, smooths his tousled hair and says to Niall with a grin as they walk out the door, “C’mon, big boy, let’s get some food.”

He’s not expecting to slam into a warm body as soon as he steps into the hallway, but that’s exactly what happens, and he squeaks in alarm as he comes close to toppling over, stopped only by the firm grasp of hands on his arms that steady him and then quickly release him. Harry Reads a glimpse of amused surprise, but no fear or anger as the man lets him go, and his shoulders drop a bit in relief. There’s something about what he’s just picked up, it felt almost muted in some way, but the moment is gone before he has time to examine it.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Harry looks up to meet a steady gaze coming from one of the more attractive faces he’s ever seen on a man, his warm brown eyes fixed on Harry in concern. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He flushes, he can’t believe he’s been so careless. Harry is  _ never _ careless like that.

“No worries,” the man returns in a soft, tenor voice that Harry immediately likes the sound off. “No damage done.”

Niall crowds out into the hallway behind Harry and gives a crow of delight when he sees the man Harry has just almost bowled over, and his two companions. “Well, speak of the devil!” he says delightedly, and a raspy voice behind Harry laughs in response.

“And the devil appears.” 

Harry turns and his breath catches in his throat for no reason he can understand. Sure, this man is attractive, extraordinarily attractive even. He’s got strong features, high cheekbones and a jawline that could cut diamonds. His eyes are a blue that rivals the Caribbean depicted on the cover of the brochure currently lying on Niall’s bed, and his smile seems to set off a small explosion inside of Harry. He’s not a big guy, maybe two inches shorter than Harry, perfectly proportioned with a waist that’s just begging for Harry to wrap his arm around it and, wait.  _ What?  _ What is happening inside his brain?

The guy is reaching out to shake Niall’s hand, “Well, well, well, Niall Horan from Starbucks, what a coincidence.” He turns to look at Harry and says with a smile, “And what have we here? Has Sleeping Beauty awakened?

Harry frowns. What the hell? Who is this guy? That’s not a thing a polite person would do, call a strange man a princess, is it? Is he making fun of Harry’s hair?

Oblivious to Harry’s thoughts, Niall turns to him and says, “These are the guys I met while you were napping this morning. This is Louis, and these two,” he indicates the man who just kept Harry from face planting and the stockier guy standing very close to him, who looks weirdly familiar, “That’s Zayn, who just saved your bacon, and that’s Liam.”

“Saved your bacon,” snorts Louis and Harry frowns again because no one should be taking the piss out of Niall except, well, him, particularly not a stranger. Louis doesn’t hold out his hand, and Harry just nods at him, a bit stiffly. 

Harry turns to Zayn and Liam who are smiling at him and has that brief moment of panic he always feels when meeting someone new. Coming out as haptic empath is never easy, and while he’s learned to shield himself emotionally from others’ responses, they do still have the power to wound him.

As Liam holds out his hand, Harry says carefully, “Just so you know, I’m a mid-level empath.”

Liam raises one eyebrow, and doesn’t move.

_ “Haptic _ empath,” Harry emphasizes and Liam stands, not moving, hand still extended, not reacting at all to the words Harry’s just said.

This is the less typical response. Usually people just nod and pull their hands back, that’s what’s done in polite society. When people continue to ask for touch, it can mean any number of different things — that they’re wondering what Harry can pick up, that they’re trying to project something at him (which isn’t how it works because he’s not telepathic, thank goodness, so he doesn’t pick up thoughts, only feelings, which are something most people don’t have control over typically), and rarely, so rarely that it’s only happened once or twice that Harry can remember, they simply want to shake his hand and they’re not worried about what they’re projecting.

Harry takes a deep breath, reaches out, and firmly grasps Liam’s hand. As their palms make contact, he stares, because there’s something different there. Liam is quiet. Not silent, of course, no one is silent, but it’s like he’s been muted in some way, and Harry is reminded of that flash he’d picked up from the other man, Zayn, Niall had called him. The only thing Harry gets from the handshake is an amused warmth and a gentle energy that swirls briefly around him and withdraws. He doesn’t realize he’s still holding on to Liam’s hand until Liam laughs, and Harry drops it in confusion, blushing.

“It’s, uh.” He finds himself stuttering, caught totally off-guard, “It’s nice to meet you, Liam.”’

Liam smiles, sweet and slow and says only, “Zayn will explain over drinks. Why don’t we head up to the deck, we can watch the departure, grab a bite.”

So that’s what they do. Louis complains about taking the stairs until Liam just fixes him with a firm stare and he quiets down as they make their way out onto the deck. The railings are lined with passengers eager to watch their voyage begin, so the five of them, by unspoken agreement, grab a big table in the outdoor cafe and order some snacks and drinks. 

The waitress, who introduces herself as Perrie, is a beautiful witch with platinum blonde hair and enormous blue eyes fringed with dramatic black lashes. She’s lovely, if you like that sort of thing, Harry thinks. She smiles when Niall orders a margarita and says, “Of course, sir. Would you like regular, large, or vacation-sized?”

Niall’s eyes widen into perfect round Os as he breathes out in awe, “What is vacation-sized? Is that even bigger than a large?

Perrie just nods and then holds up her hands about a foot apart to indicate the vastness of the drink, and Niall grins wildly at the others before turning to her to say, “Sign me the fuck up.” He winces, “Shit, sorry, I said fuck,” and then realizes what he’s said and just shakes his head. 

The waitress just laughs and says, “Don’t worry about it, sir, I’ve heard worse.”

Niall frowns at that but just nods, and the waitress says, “Will this be going to separate rooms, sirs?”

Harry reaches into his back holster to grab his wand but before he can do it, Zayn is holding his out and Harry’s eyes widen. Zayn’s wand is one of those luxury wands that he’s seen in the fashion magazines. It’s ebony, inlaid with silver scrollwork, and there’s what looks like an honest-to-Gandalf ruby embedded in end, that’s about the size of Harry’s thumb. And Harry has big thumbs.

“You know,” Louis murmurs from where he’s sitting on Harry’s left, “Where I come from, it’s not considered polite to stare at a man’s wand.”

Harry snaps his jaw shut and frowns again, wondering what it is about this guy that just seems to get under his skin. Harry would almost have thought him attractive, but he can’t get past the way this guy just seems to want to needle him a bit. He feels off-kilter, unbalanced somehow, and he doesn’t like it. Unfortunately, if he knows Niall, and he does know Niall, his friend will have already adopted these guys into his heart and Harry can see that they’re going to be spending a lot of time together on this vacation.

“Funny coincidence, isn’t it,” Niall comments as Perrie drops off their appetizers and drinks and gives them a wink as she saunters off, all five men marveling at her ability to do her job is five inch platform peep-toe sandals, “That we’re on the same deck.”

“Not just the same deck,” Liam says thoughtfully, “We’re neighbors. We’re right next door to you. And no, I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all, do you, Z?” There’s a weight to his tone that Harry doesn’t understand until Zayn speaks.

“Nope.” He says it with absolute certainty. “It’s no coincidence.”

Something occurs to Harry. “Wait, why did they need your wand? Isn’t this all included?” As he speaks, Louis snorts a bit and Harry feels a bit naive, inexperienced.

Zayn just smiles and says, “It is, but they do track it, something about how it helps them manage ordering supplies. Don’t worry, there won’t be any unexpected charges at the end of our journey. That’s one of the great things about this company.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry nods, resolutely ignoring Louis.

“So,” Liam says after they’d sampled their drinks and helped themselves to some food. “Tell us a bit about yourselves.”

Niall grins. “Well, Harry and I have been best friends since preschool, and we’ve been training partners since we were twelve. Turns out that in addition to being so amazing together, we’re also compatible talents.”

It’s not considered appropriate to inquire about others’ talents, but it’s perfectly acceptable to offer any information you want, so Zayn and Liam don’t ask, but Niall just plows ahead. “I’m an amp and a shield, both class C3, and a general shield as far as we know. Harry’s a haptic empath like he said, but he’s also a Finder, both class C4.” 

Harry reminds himself that class C is a perfectly acceptable level of power to posses, not that he has any control over it in any case. Most people fall somewhere in the C1-C5 range, and as a C4, Harry falls just underneath dead average. The raters claim that the scale is uniform, but Harry’s heard rumors that it’s not really, and that when you get out onto the fringes, things get weird. He’s met some B class talents before, and can’t even imagine what an A-class Finder might be able to do. A-class talents are wildly rare, found in fewer than .1% of the population. He feels sympathy for those E-class wizards he’s read about, with next to magical ability at all. D-level talents can get by, they’ve got enough ability to live in the wizarding world, but they don’t tend to have specific talents, or if one can be identified, it’s usually so weak as to be useless in any practical capacity.

Liam grins, and asks, “So, what do you do?”

Harry speaks up. “I own my own business, I’m an independent Finder, best with small things. You know, jewelry, books, things like that.”

Liam sips his vacation-sized margarita which really is quite outrageous, both in size and taste, Harry thinks, and says “And do you enjoy that? Finding things?” 

Harry has this nagging feeling that he’s seen Liam somewhere before but can’t place him. “I do,” he answers. “I mean, it’s a great feeling, most of the time, to be able to help people Find something important to them?” He grimaces, “It doesn’t always work out so well, but I do my best.”

“I know,” Zayn says, that same odd tone of conviction in his voice, “I know you do, Harry.”

Harry stares at him and then Liam says, “I think you need to explain, love,” looking at Zayn with such affection that Harry’s heart aches just a tiny bit in envy as he wonders if they’re together, and when he sees the way Zayn’s face shines as he looks back at Liam, he knows they must be, and it’s confirmed when Zayn reaches over and winds his fingers through Liam’s.

“Well,” Zayn says, obviously gathering his thoughts, “The first thing you should know is that Liam and I are both classed as B1 talents.” 

Harry’s eyes widen as he hears Niall’s sharp intake of breath beside and he sees, just on the edge of his line-of-sight, Louis rolling his eyes. B1? That’s powerful.  _ Really _ powerful. Zayn and Liam are easily the strongest talents Harry has ever met, and the luxury of Zayn’s wand starts to make more sense. Any B-level talent, whatever the flavor, would be highly sought after, and a B1? 

Zayn continues, “Liam’s gift is Harmonious Design. So he can read magical energy and design a living space for you that will give you what you need from your environment. He’s...highly sought after,” and here Louis snorts at the understatement. “In fact,” Zayn says, the pride in his voice clear, “Liam was intimately involved in the design of the living spaces on this ship.”

“Wow, man, that’s amazing,” Niall says, “Our room is gorgeous, isn’t it, Harry?”

Harry tries to gather his wits about him. He’s not sure why, but he’s fairly sure that the revelations of the evening are not over. “Yeah,” he says, “Yes, it’s incredible, Liam. Well done.”

Liam grins a bit sheepishly and Harry can’t help feel a bit of awe as he thinks about the power running through Liam’s sturdy frame. “Thanks, guys,” he says quietly, “I appreciate that.”

Suddenly it clicks for Harry, where he knows Liam’s face from. “That magazine!” He shouts, and then winces, “Sorry. Niall, that thing you were reading in my office, that was you on the cover, wasn’t it?”

Liam shrugs, and says, “Probably. I’ve been getting a lot of press lately for some work I did in France.” 

Harry can only imagine what the work is that Liam’s been doing, that would earn him a lot of press.

Zayn takes a long drink of his margarita and then says a bit awkwardly, “So, what I’m about to tell you is...somewhat confidential, I guess. We’re trusting you to keep this information private.”

Niall and Harry both nod vigorously, and Harry says earnestly, “Of course, Zayn, we wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Once more, Zayn says in that tone, “Oh, I know, Harry. I know I can trust you both.” He takes a deep breath. “So, my gift is that I’m a precog.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _ Precognition is a rare and capricious gift, and Harry had no idea there was a B1 precog on the east coast. This really is explosive information and he can’t believe Zayn is trusting them with it within an hour of meeting them.

“My gift is generally very, very limited,” Zayn says, “And tends to center around the financial markets.” 

Harry’s eyes widen in spite of himself. “Holy Gandalf,” he whispers, stunned that the ruby on Zayn’s wand isn’t larger. He can clearly afford it.

“Occasionally, my gift flares to give me...other kinds of information. Rarely, very rarely in fact, does that information come in a form that I can actually interpret and make sense of. It’s happened in a couple of situations before. The first time was before I met Liam.” Here his face softens as he looks over at the other man. “I had a clear vision of him walking into my office, and I knew immediately who he was and what he would be to me. And the second,” here his face clouds over and he looks away, “Well, that was a less happy matter.” He pauses as if to say more, and then looks at Liam. They lock gazes for a long moment, and if Harry hadn’t been watching, eyes glued as if to a tennis match, he would have missed Liam’s subtle head shake as Zayn says, “A family thing. I’ve had a number of visions with that, but.” He stops himself. “No matter.”

Harry and Niall glance at each other, confusion written on both their faces. Harry really can’t figure out where this is going. 

Zayn takes a deep breath and says, “The third time I’ve gotten usable information from a precog flare was last night. I was taking a bath and I had a vision of the Starbucks we were in this morning, and of meeting you two.”

Harry feels his jaw actually honest-to-Gandalf drop open and when he looks at Niall, he can see that he’s not in much better of a state. “What?” He finally stutters out. “What are you saying, Zayn? What did you see?”

Zayn shrugs, “Just that really, I saw the three of us sitting at the table, and you guys coming into the bar. I saw Niall’s eyes and grin...” Here he and Liam exchange another look that Harry can’t interpret, and then Zayn turns to smile at him. “You were a bit more blurry, Harry, all I could really see of you was your head pillowed in your arms, and you were wearing a gold Tree of Life necklace that was draped over the table.”

“Huh,” Harry says, “Well, I was asleep, maybe that’s why I wasn’t clear? I don’t own a necklace like that though.” He shrugs, he knows precog visions are very rarely literal. From the theory he’s read, the clearer they are, the more likely they are to happen, but meanings and events can be hidden in symbols, and often are only fully understood after the event has passed, which makes it, Harry thinks, not for the first time, not the most useful of gifts until you really hone it. Harry has no idea what the impact of the power of Zayn’s talent might be, and breathes a small prayer of thanks, also not for the first time, that this is not his gift. 

“So,” Niall says awkwardly, “What exactly does it mean, that you saw us in a vision?”

Zayn shrugs, “I’m not entirely sure. At the very least, you’re both clearly going to be important in my life in some way. It might mean, though...that we have a soul bond,” and Harry and Niall both suck in their breaths as one.

Soulbonds are the connections souls make to each other before entering life on this plane. There are many different forms that soulbonds can take — bonds to have a certain relationship, such as parent and child, or friend; bonds to provide certain opportunities for growth in each other’s lives, through interactions that might be positive, but could be profoundly negative as well. Some soulbonds are obvious, such as the bond Harry and Niall share; others are murkier, possibly never even fully understood while one is living this life. The rarest form of the soulbond is that of the soulmate. Unlike other soulbonds, where the form of the connection might change from life to life — friends in one life, parent and child the next, even going from love to hate, all in the service of the soul’s growth — soulmates are only ever partners in life, lovers of the highest order. They’re also very rare, and most people don’t find theirs, as far as Harry knows. Usually a soulmate bond only exists between two people, but it’s not unheard of for there to be triads, or even the occasional quartet. Harry’s even heard rumors of a pop band in the UK formed on some singing competition on the TV that’s a soulmate quintet. 

And then Liam drops the final bomb. “Harry, Zayn knew you were a haptic empath before we met, he pulled that from the vision, and he has a theory. When we shook hands, did it feel different?” 

Harry frowns, remembering that moment. “It did,” he says slowly, feeling his way through the memory. Without thinking, he reaches out his hand to Liam, hearing Louis’ sharp intake of breath and thinks absently that Louis has been suspiciously quiet throughout this conversation. Liam reaches back and their hands meet over the nachos. Harry closes his eyes, reaching out with his gift in a way he almost never does, and feels Liam there, almost glowing in Harry’s mind’s eye, but still, yes, curiously muted and quiet, as if Harry is hearing him from underwater. He can feel Liam’s excitement at this meeting, his joy in his love for Zayn, and a tinge of sexual attraction that doesn’t feel personal, doesn’t feel like it’s for Harry. He opens his eyes and drops Liam’s hand.

“Yeah,” he says, “It’s definitely different from most people. It feels a bit more like it is with Niall, when he’s shielding me. I can still read him, but it’s not as strong as with other people.”

Liam and Zayn look at each other and Zayn’s face breaks open into such an unguarded and lovely smile that Harry can’t help but being swept along in it’s wake.

“Yeah?” Liam asks.

“Yeah,” Zayn says definitively, and looks back at Harry. “That’s because we have a soulbond, Harry.”

At Zayn’s words, Harry feels the bloom of certainty in his chest, the truth of Zayn’s words, and he starts nodding as Zayn continues.

“I’ve had this theory. You know how soulmates quiet empath and telepathy talents? So that you can be alone with someone else?” 

Harry nods, he’s certainly familiar with this reported phenomenon though, of course, he’s never experienced it. He had gone through a phase in his late teens where he’d devoured every first-hand account he could get his hands on, trying to understand what it might feel like. 

“I’ve had a theory that a soulbond with someone who also has a soulmate bond to someone else acts in a similar way, but like more of a dampener…” Zayn’s voice trails off as he is clearly lost in thought and then he mutters, “That’d be an interesting study, now, wouldn’t it? Does the dampening go both ways? Have I ever had a vision while Liam’s touching me? I’ve had them with him in the room. Also, how would you explain soulmate-specific amps?” He comes back to himself and stares at Harry, startled. “Anyway. That you can’t read us well, that says to me that I’m right. That we do have soulbond. We can have it tested, I know there’s a center in St. George’s, but I’m sure.” He smiles. “Welcome to the family, Harry.”

Harry is feeling overwhelmed, doesn’t quite know what to say, and then remembers something. “Wait, you said you saw Niall too. Does that mean you have a soulbond with Niall?” 

It’s not unusual to have various configurations of relationships and bonds among friends and family, which makes sense to Harry, that souls connect to each other, and form intricate networks, like the structure of a snowflake is how he’s imagined it. There’s also a theory that you can make new soulbonds so the network of souls you’re connected to can just grow and grow, which Harry thinks is beautiful. Soul _ mates _ though, those are eternal and forever. 

He sees Zayn and Liam look at each other and then Liam murmurs, “We think...yeah, something like that.”

Harry claps his hands in excitement. It’s not every day you gain two new soulbonds, but given that he’d had the same reaction to Zayn that he’s had to Liam, it seems likely that they’re all connected. It only makes sense — soulmates come as unit. And now that he’s looking, it’s obvious that Zayn and Liam are soulmate bonded. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of movement and then Louis is draining his drink and standing up.

“Well, lads,” he says with forced cheer, “I’ll let the four of you get to know each other a bit, yeah? I’m going to go walk around, see what there is to see.” And before anyone can say anything, he’s off. Harry’s eyes can’t help tracking him as he leaves, and he sighs, because it’s a lovely view. Too bad the guy himself is sort of a jerk.

“What’s his story?” Niall asks curiously and Harry, for one brief moment, wishes he was touching Niall so he could read him, because Niall sounds intrigued. It’s been awhile since Niall’s been really interested in someone, Harry thinks, hoping that Niall’s not attracted to Louis. Not, Harry assures himself, because he himself is interested, not at all. More that Louis doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d be very nice to date, that’s all. Niall’s never been seriously interested in anyone in the time Harry’s known him, but, Harry knows, that could change.

Zayn smiles, “Well, most of that is Louis’ story to tell, but we’ve all been friends for a long time. He and Liam have known each other the longest, and then when Liam and I connected, and it became clear what we were for to each other, we decided to move in together and Louis just sort of came along too.” 

Harry desperately wonders if they’re all soulbonded as well, and knows there’s no polite way to ask. He also really, really wants to know what Louis’ talent is, and again, there’s no polite way to ask, so he finally just sighs, and takes a drink of the margarita that he’d forgotten all about in the wake of the afternoon’s revelations. 

While they’ve been talking, the cruise ship has been slowly moving out of the harbour and now they’re really off, headed for the open sea. Harry leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath. This vacation has already been far more exciting and life-changing than he ever anticipated, and it’s only been underway for a few hours. What on earth will the next nine days bring? Harry can’t even imagine.

They spend the rest of the afternoon sitting in the sun, eating snacks, having another drink and talking. As they get to know each other, Harry feels a curious sense of familiarity. He can already tell that Liam is the more settled of the two, for all that he’s an interior designer, and Harry laughs a bit at his own preconceived notions. Liam has a masculine energy that Harry finds appealing, not to mention his biceps are quite a sight to behold, although there’s no tug of attraction there that Harry feels. Zayn, on the other hand, is clearly just a giant nerd under that pretty boy exterior, and Harry finds himself forgetting that in all likelihood, Zayn is one of the major players in the financial markets of the world as he talks about his excitement is finding some vintage Batman comics at a little shop near his apartment in New York. He’s also so unnaturally lovely that Harry wonders if he’s got a little Fae in him, but again, there’s no pull of any sort of attraction that Harry feels.

Harry shares some of his funnier Finding stories, making sure to protect his clients’ confidentiality of course, and Niall talks about what it’s like to be an Amp.

“Yeah, I know people look down on us a bit, since all our talent is good for is making yours better,” he says. Harry’s not sure how he’s still so coherent, as he’s on his fourth vacation-sized margarita, but that is also part of Niall’s magic. 

Zayn frowns. He’s actually looking a bit the worse for wear, having attempted to keep up with Niall. Harry had switched to iced tea an hour and a half ago, he’s no fool. Zayn’s eyes are blurry, he’s slurring his words a bit and his nose has turned a lovely shade of pink in the sun.

“Tha’s jus’ wrong,” Zayn says loudly, waving his drink around enthusiastically and coming perilously close to spilling it all over Perrie as she sets down a fresh plate of appetizers. “Thanks, darlin’.” He continues his rant, as the others watch him, bemused. “I mean, Amps are so important, righ’ Lou? They make us better! Stronger! Righ’, Lou?” He turns and frowns at the absence of Louis. “Where’s Lou, Li? Where’d he go?”

Liam just snorts and hands Perrie his wand. “Close us out for now, Perrie, thanks.” He turns and grins at Harry. “I’m going to take this one back to our room, see if I can get him sobered up for dinner. Are we still planning to meet?”

They all stand, and head back to the stairs that will take them down to their deck, Niall and Harry automatically linking hands in the pre-dinner cocktail hour crowd. Zayn glances at them and then nods, once to himself. He’s singing softly as they make their way down the stairs, and when they get to their respective doors, he smiles sweetly at Harry and Niall, before turning and walking smack into his own door. Harry and Niall head into their room, laughing a bit at the face of utter betrayal that Zayn is making.

They’ve got reservations for the 8:30 seating at the Chef’s Table, and there’s talk about maybe going out afterwards, which gives Harry a slight feeling of panic at the prospect but he figures he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. One reason he’s found that people don’t seem to gravitate to him as much is that it’s hard for him to be out in crowded spaces unless he has Niall to shield him, to bring other people’s emotions down to a manageable level, but even then, he still picks up far more than he ever wants to know.

As he and Niall enter into their small cabin, he ponders the revelations of the day. Niall flops onto one bed, and Harry sinks down onto the other. He needs a shower, and possibly to jerk off, but he won’t mention that to Niall. 

“Hey,” he says, a question occurring to him, “That whole thing about soulbonds acting as dampeners to their emotions? How come you don’t? I mean, we’re definitely soulbonded, and I read you really clear.”

Niall stretches and yawns. “Oh, Zayn and I were talking about that when you and Liam were discussing the feng shui of your office. Zayn’s theory is that it’s different for us because I’m twinned and an Amp, so my Amping talent kind of cancels out my soulbond thing? Also, I don’t have a soulmate bond, so that might be part of it. I don’t know, it made sense when he explained it.”

Harry snorts, “He was shitfaced though.”

“I know,” Niall smiles, bemused. “Was really cute, wasn’t it?”

Harry stares at him. “What? You think he’s cute? Like,  _ cute- _ cute?”

“Uh,” Niall starts to backtrack and Harry rolls over, launching himself across the small gap between their beds to land on top of Niall. 

“You do,” he crows, pinning Niall to the bed, “You think he’s cute!” He freezes as he reads the emotion coming off of Niall. There’s amusement, a bit of embarrassment and a strong, strong feel of… “Wait, you really like him.” He rolls off of Niall to curl up beside him.

Niall shrugs, he and Harry are long past the awkwardness that Harry’s gift can bring. There are no secrets when you’re close to an empath, which, oddly enough, doesn’t appeal to most people but it’s never, ever been an issue with Niall.

“Well, yeah, I mean, he’s great, right? Funny, smart, talented, gorgeous.”

“And he has a soulmate,” Harry hisses, in spite of himself. “Niall, he’s not just got a boyfriend, he’s got a  _ soulmate. _ Like, he’s the most unavailable man on this ship.”

“Except for Liam,” Niall points out and Harry doesn’t have to be touching him to hear the sadness in his voice that he’s not even sure Niall notices.

“Niall,” Harry says carefully, “Are you saying you like them...both?”

Niall rolls over onto his side to face Harry. “I don’t know, Harry. I mean, I guess I just feel really drawn to them. Probably because of the soulbond thing, you think? But it’s like you said, they’re soulmates with each other, so it’s not like it can ever be anything but a friendship. I’ve just never felt this kind of pull before. You know what I mean?” He looks earnest and a bit unhappy, and while, no, Harry doesn’t know what he means, because he’s never really felt that pull to anyone, he does know that he doesn’t like seeing his best friend looking sad and uncertain.

He’s not sure what to say. He can’t quite understand why Niall would feel this way, clearly attracted to them both, because Zayn and Liam are soulmates. They’re just not going to be interested back, and Harry is not sure why the soulbond would work in this way, to leave Niall already clearly yearning for the very people that he cannot have any hope of having. He settles for petting Niall’s hair while murmuring, ‘I don’t know, Nialler, I really don’t.”

They end up napping for a bit. Harry wakes before Niall does, so takes the first shower. He’s pleased to see that there’s a lovely selection of products provided, and foregoes his own to experiment with what’s been provided. He climbs out of the shower smelling pleasantly of mint and lavender, and dries his hair, humming to himself. He’s always preferred an old-fashioned shower to a cleaning charm, and most of the C-level talents he knows (which is pretty much  _ everyone _ he knows) feel the same way. For Cs, smaller magics are easily cast, but the larger ones require ritual and paraphernalia, and most people don’t want to bother. Not to mention, casting of any sort takes energy from the caster, and the bigger the magic, the more energy required. No point in using magic to get yourself squeaky clean and then needing to go right to bed after.

While Niall is showering, Harry ponders the events before him. He finally pulls on a pair of skintight white jeans, a classic Hawaiian shirt and his favorite straw fedora. He slips on his new huarache sandals and takes a look in the mirror. He’s not a bad looking guy, he knows, but somehow, once people find out the truth of his talent, that doesn’t seem to be quite enough. Harry can’t say that he really blames them. He’s never seen the value of his empathy either. He’s tried to research ways he might utilize it for his Finding work, but hasn’t been able to figure that one out either. Maybe he’s just not a powerful enough talent for it to be useful. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair and checks his phone.

There’s a text from Liam, with some creative spelling that makes Harry frown a bit in confusion.

**LP: hey, harru, why dnt you and Nailll come on ovr when ur up and rdy we can have a drnk on the blacony before we go 2 dnr. U kno whr we r ha ha**

Harry texts back a quick acknowledgement, and a half hour later, he and Niall head next door.

Harry catches his breath as they enter the suite. While his and Niall’s room is really nice — it is a luxury level room after all — this is on a whole different level, and it’s hard to believe this exists right next door to their own small cabin. There’s a large sitting room with a huge, comfy-looking sectional couch in an L shape and what looks to be a genuine mahogany coffee table. The built-ins seem to be cherry, polished to a high gloss, and that’s a top of the line TV and sound system, if Harry’s not mistaken. The art on the walls looks original and the brass light fixtures are gleaming. There’s even a small kitchenette with a granite countertop and stainless steel appliances. Harry catches a glimpse of the powder room, seeing marble tile and countertops. He can see doors on either side of the room leading, he assumes to the bedrooms, and there are glass sliders to the back, opening out onto a balcony that’s about 5 times the size of Niall and Harry’s. It’s got a table for six, several loungers and hot tub.

“Holy shit,” Harry breathes as he looks around, “Wow, this is amazing.” He and Niall exchange glances. Harry can’t even imagine how much this is costing Zayn for the cruise. He’s never seen anything like it, especially not in a space designed to be transient. He remembers the particular nature of Zayn’s gift, and mentally shrugs. Not to be crass, but he’s guessing Zayn can afford it.

Zayn ushers them through the sitting room, seemingly much more sober than when they’d parted ways earlier, and Liam greets them with a cheerful grin. “Looking sharp, lads,” he cries as he mixes cocktails and hands them around.

“Where’s, uh, where’s Louis?” Harry asks, feeling awkward. Given how important he seems to be in Zayn and Liam’s life — pretty much every story either man told seemed to start with “That time when Louis and I…” — he’s hoping to get a chance to know the man better. He can appreciate how awkward it must have been that afternoon, after all, he  _ is _ an empath. These three have clearly been a unit for a very long time, and now that unit is expanding. There are going to be some growing pains.

“Shower,” says Liam carelessly, “He’s explored the whole ship, got our whole vacation planned.”

Zayn snorts at that. “He had that done before we even came on-board. Lou’s a planner,” he explains, “He really likes to be in charge, so usually we just...let him.”

“Because,” Louis calls from the sitting room where he’s making his way out to the balcony, “You know I’m right.”

Harry frowns. He, too, is a planner, mainly because Niall couldn’t organize his way out of a paper bag if it were left up to him, so Harry’s taken that over by default, but he likes to think he’s good at it, and he certainly enjoys it. He can be flexible, he assures himself, and maybe it could feel good to let someone else take over the planning for a bit.

Louis comes out onto the balcony and Harry’s mouth dries up because he’s really gorgeous, is the thing, even if he’s a bit of jerk. He’s dressed in tight jeans much like Harry’s, though his are a deep indigo blue, and he’s wearing a tight t-shirt, also dark blue, with a constellation design on it that sparkles in the setting sun as he moves. And he’s wearing a thigh holster, for the love of Gandalf. Harry hates thigh holsters, he reminds himself, he hates them, but even so, he somehow can’t quite look away from where the deep rich leather is clinging to Louis’s strong, muscular thigh. He manages to drag his eyes back to Louis’ face, who’s watching him with one eyebrow quirked, and Harry is pretty sure Louis is trying not smirk.

As they talk and laugh, Harry watches the sunset light up the sky and cannot believe that this is his life for the next nine days. When Louis had walked out onto the deck, it almost felt like a key sliding into a lock, opening the door to this grand new adventure, and all of a sudden, Harry cannot wait. 

It turns out, Louis is hysterically funny, and  _ merciless, _ poking fun at all of them indiscriminately, including himself, but as they get up to make their way to the Chef’s Table where Zayn’s gotten them a reservation, Harry can’t help but notice that Louis shares very, very little of his own personal details with them. Zayn waves his hand languidly, sending the dirty glasses over into the sink which turns on to wash them, while the liquor bottles fly back into the fridge, landing gently, and Harry’s eyes go wide at the unconscious display of power. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis says sarcastically, “Very nice, we know you’re powerful.” He rolls his eyes and Harry wonders what he’d feel if he had his hands on Louis right now, because there’s an edge to his voice and a look on Zayn’s face that suggests he’s not simply taking the piss out of his friend here.

They walk down the hall to the elevators, and as they get closer, with more people in the halls, Niall drops back from where he’s been talking to Zayn and Liam to grab Harry’s hand, who feels himself sigh in relief. Harry sees Louis look at their joined hands and frown just a bit. 

“I’ve never really thought what it would be like for an empath,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically serious, “But you’re haptic, right? Just activated by touch?”

Harry nods, feeling Niall’s excitement for dinner, which is tinged by more lust than he usually experiences, and Harry should know. Even when they’re out for fun, Niall just has never really had strong emotions in that arena. “Yeah,” he says, “S’why crowds are tough for me, because you can’t help touching people, and even just bumping against them, I can get overwhelmed if there’s a lot of people, or if it’s a highly emotional situation. Having Niall helps me a lot, he brings it down to where I can manage, not get lost in it.”

Louis nods. “I imagine that’d be scary.”

Harry shudders, remembering when he was younger and more arrogant, he’d tried to go to a New Year’s Eve celebration on his own, and had gotten so overwhelmed, he’d gotten lost in the sea of emotions around him, with so many people pressed against him. He’d been almost comatose by the time Niall had found him, and it had taken weeks for him to get back to himself. “Yeah, it can get really bad. I don’t like big crowds.” 

They board the elevator to head down to the sixth level, and Harry moves all the way to back corner, with Niall standing between him and the rest of the occupants. They’ve got a system down, and he notices absently that Louis moves, almost automatically, to stand side by side with Niall, blocking Harry thoroughly from any accidental touches, and Harry wonders if he’s going to have to revise his opinion of the gorgeous jerk.

When they get to the restaurant, Harry cannot believe the elegance of the decor, and when he comments on it, Liam flushes, as Zayn says proudly, “Liam did it. This has been his big project for the last year or so, hasn’t it, babe?”

The maitre d’ gets them seated in a small, private alcove, and sends over their server, who seems oddly nervous for no reason Harry can ascertain. Surely they’ve got their most experienced staff here?

When Zayn again proffers his wand, Harry moves to protest, pulling out his own wand. “Zayn, this is too much, you must let us contribute.” 

Zayn just shakes his head, and Louis murmurs in Harry’s ear, “Put your wand away, he’s not going to let you pay, that’s just the way it is.”

“That’s a beautiful wand, Harry,” Liam chimes in and Harry flushes. 

He’d seen Liam’s wand earlier, and it’s as magnificent as Zayn’s, made of teak, Liam had mentioned, inlaid with a mother-of-pearl floral motif, and with a huge, grass-green, clear emerald at the tip. Harry fears his own serviceable carved oak pales in comparison, but smiles his thanks.

“It’s served me well over the years,” he says, “I got it all polished up for the trip.”

He hears Louis choke on his wine a little, who then says, “Oh, really? Got it all polished, nice and special?”

Harry frowns, “Yeah, there’s a guy in Harvard Square I go to, he always does a good job,” and when Louis snickers into his drink, Harry realizes what he’s insinuating. 

“Really? Wand polishing jokes? What are you, twelve?” And with that, the entire table, minus Harry, bursts out laughing while Harry sulks into his wine.

By the time they finish their five course tasting menu, Harry’s had, by his own estimation, close to a bottle of wine on his own and he’s feeling a bit fuzzy, so when Niall says, “Let’s go dancing for a bit, start the vacation off right!”, he doesn’t think twice, doesn’t think at all really, just calls out his agreement. He hasn’t been dancing in so long, and all of sudden, there’s nothing he wants to do more.

It’s past 11:00 now, and the club, which is located just opposite the Chef’s Table, is jumping. The music’s loud but there’s some complicated charm work at play here that allows people to be able to hear each other easily even with the thumping bass, and Harry nods to himself in appreciation. Louis carves a path through the crowd, and, clutching Niall’s hand, Harry moves after him. He’s bumped, of course, but in general, no one’s feeling anything other than what you’d expect on the first night of a cruise: it’s a general mix of excitement, exhaustion and optimistic lust.

Harry’s had enough to drink that the round of shots Louis orders seems like a great idea, so as one, the five of them toast and slam the tequila back. 

Louis says, clear over the sound of the music, “It’s clearer towards the back, not as many people, let’s go there,” and they all follow obligingly behind him as he pushes his way through the crowd to a spot where the crowd thins out. At first, as they dance, they’re all spread out, but as the music moves through them, the five of them begin drawing together. Niall seems to be almost in his own world, and then Harry sees it happen.

Zayn and Liam are dancing back to front, Liam behind Zayn with his hands resting loosely on Zayn’s hips as they move together, and Harry thinks that it’s just a bit unfair that two such attractive men also have  _ such _ power thrumming between them that Harry can almost see it shimmering in the flashing lights. Niall is dancing something that might be a polka and might be tango, Harry’s not sure, but he’s backing up, and then bumps into Zayn and Liam, and as one, they turn. Liam wraps his left arm around Niall, while Zayn snakes his right arm around Niall’s waist and then there’s flare of light so bright as the three of them connect that the whole room lights up with it, and the crowd stills, everyone turning to watch whatever this is happen.

Niall’s eyes fly open and there’s an expression on his face that Harry’s never seen before, it’s something like joy and something like ecstasy, and he looks like he’s burning up from the inside out as the flash settles into a glow that lights him up and then seems to be absorbed into his skin. Harry, even though his eyes are dazzled from the light, can read Niall’s lips as he stares about him in confusion.

“What the fuck was that?” Niall all but shouts and Harry moves closer, wondering what the hell is going on.

Zayn and Liam still have Niall wrapped up between them and Zayn looks overwhelmed, like he’s about to cry as Liam says, “Niall, that was…” his voice trails off helplessly as he tries to explain. “You’re our…Niall…” 

Then Zayn’s hand reaches up and cups Niall’s cheek and he says, such tenderness in his voice that Harry’s heart catches in his throat, “Niall, you’re our soulmate,” and Niall bursts into tears. 

Liam wraps his arms around Niall as Harry jolts forward, stuttering to a halt as he hears Liam say, “Niall, it’s okay. Zayn and I, we thought, maybe...from Z’s vision, but we didn’t know. Didn’t know how to check.”

Niall is taking deep gasping breaths as he stares at them, first at Liam, then at Zayn, and Harry can hear the emotion in his voice. He looks bewildered as he says, “How is this possible? I don’t understand.”

Liam leans forward to press his forehead against Niall’s. “I don’t know, but I just know that it is. And you know it too, don’t you? Couldn’t you feel it already?” And NIall just nods, slowly. 

Harry hears Zayn say, “C’mon, why don’t we get out of here, we can go back to the suite and talk.” He leans in to press a quick kiss to Niall’s mouth and Harry swears he can see the sparks leap between them. And then, the three of them, with arms still wrapped around each other, make their way across the dance floor and walk away, leaving Harry standing, stunned and alone on the dancefloor. 

He’s jolted out of his reverie by a man sliding up behind him and grabbing him by the hips as he whispers in Harry’s ear, “Hey gorgeous, wanna dance?” 

The lust pouring off of him feels greedy and tainted somehow, slick and oily, and Harry gags as he whirls around and shouts “No, don’t touch me.” He turns again, and suddenly it’s too much, the lights, the music, the alcohol clouding his brain. He feels like he’s in the funhouse at a carnival and he panics. He’s twisting wildly, trying to find the way out when suddenly, Louis is there, standing right in front of him, arms up to block out the people around them, but blessedly, he doesn’t touch Harry. 

“Harry,” he shouts, and Harry hears him through the panic buzzing in his ears, “Harry, can you hear me?” 

Harry manages to stop his frenzied searching and meets Louis’ eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he takes a deep gulping breath because he’s choking, he can’t breathe, he’s got to get out of here. “I have to…” he says frantically and Louis just nods.

“C’mon, follow me,” he says, and once more, somehow manages to carve a path through the crowd to the exit. 

It’s too crowded for Harry to get through untouched, and he’s sweating by the time they get to the bank of elevators, overwhelmed by the emotions being drawn into him by his gift. He can feel it all, the excitement, the confusion, the desire people are feeling, all aimed at him like arrows lodging just under his skin, and he can’t wait to get somewhere quiet, to try and work out what’s just happened. He’s overwhelmed, and has no idea how to feel, too full up of everyone else’s emotions to have any room for his own.

Louis is, thankfully, completely quiet as they wait for the elevator, and when they get on, he says to the couple trying to enter after them in a tone that brooks no argument, “You’ll have to take the next one, empathic overload.” Harry can only imagine that he looks a mess, and when the couple sees him, they simply nod and step back.

Harry notes that Louis has not pressed the button for Deck 10, where they’re staying, but for Deck 13, but suddenly it hits him that he’s been up since yesterday morning, and he slumps against the back wall, his eyes closing, too exhausted to do anything else. 

He feels the elevator slowing, hears Louis murmur, “C’mon, Harry, let’s go,” and sleepily opens his eyes. Louis is bracing the door open, and Harry walks out into a large atrium. He follows Louis, not caring where Louis is taking him, and is shocked to realize that somehow over the course of the evening, he’s not only stopped assuming Louis is a jerk, he’s started...trusting him, at least a bit. Louis walks next him, hands jammed into his pockets, until they reach a set of ornate double doors which are closed, and written in an ornate script over them are the words “Diamond Lounge.” He frowns, remembering something about this from the brochure.

“Louis, this is like a super-exclusive club, isn’t it? We can’t go in there.”

Louis pulls out his wand and Harry notes that it’s nothing fancy like Zayn and Liam’s, but it’s a lovely birch with stars carved into it, and seems to suit him somehow. Louis tosses him a smirk and says, as he presses the wand to the reader, “We can get in,” and the doors slowly open inward.

Louis makes an ‘after you’ kind of gesture, and Harry walks hesitantly into the club. Even at this time of night, there are people scattered around, but there’s a hush in the air, and Harry realizes there’s more of that noise-cancelling magic at work here, though this seems to be shielding each conversation to ensure privacy at every table. He stands by the door and watches Louis walk confidently over to the bar and say something to bartender, who smiles and nods and hands over a couple of bottles of water. Louis looks up and his gaze meets Harry’s across the room, and there’s heat it in. Louis tilts his head towards the back of the room and Harry looks over to see that the whole end of the club is open to the night.

He follows Loius out into the dark. There are no lamps out here, but the deck is lit by the glow of the moon which is huge as the ship makes its way across the ocean. It’s empty out here too, the other patrons having elected to stay inside in the light. Louis makes his way to the railing and stands, looking out over the infinite dark sea, the moon lighting up his face in a soft, silver glow. He’s beautiful in the moonlight, Harry notes, but then, he’s pretty sure Louis is beautiful in every light. He frowns at this thought.

Harry mimics Louis’ pose, leaning on his forearms against the railing, and takes a deep breath, letting the sight, sound and scent of the ocean fill his senses. Louis hands him one of the bottles of water, and he breaks the seal and drinks half the bottle before finally pausing, wiping his mouth. He doesn’t look at Louis as he finally breaks the silence between them and says, “Thanks,” though he can feel Louis’ gaze on him.

There’s another long moment of quiet and then Louis asks gently, “Are you okay?” and Harry can’t believe he ever thought this guy was a jerk.

“I...uh,” his throat closes and his eyes fill, and he has to take a long deep breath in and let it out through his nose before he can continue. “I honestly don’t even know. I just,” here he finally turns to look at Louis, “What in the everlasting fuck  _ was that?” _

Louis smiles, and says “That’s what happens when soulmates touch for the first time. That’s only the second time I’ve seen it, to be honest, and it was nowhere near as bright the first time I saw it.”

“Was that…”

“Zayn and Liam? Yeah. I guess Zayn knew it was coming, what with the…” Louis makes a vague hand gesture that Harry interprets to mean Zayn’s precognitive gift, “but let me tell you, it sure was a shock to me and Liam. We’d been best friends for years at that point.”

“How did you feel?” Harry asks curiously, ignoring the fact that it’s really none of his business. 

Louis shrugs. “I felt a lot of things. I was so happy for them. Liam had been lonely, you know? Like he’d almost known half of him was missing. Or,” and here Louis slants a sharp smile at Harry, “a third, I guess, given tonight.”

Harry snorts and feels himself shift back a bit closer to reality as Louis continues.

“But yeah, I was so happy for him, and Zayn too as I got to know him, they’re so good together, obviously. I was scared, wondering what it meant for me and Liam. Mad, maybe, that I didn’t get to have that too. Jealous…” Louis’ voice trails off and then he shrugs. “Yeah, a whole lot of things. It took a while to process.”

Out here, with only Louis at his side, who is carefully not touching him, in the witness of the vastness of the ocean and the sky, Harry feels the intrusion of all the emotions he’s carried tonight that aren’t his start to drop away. He can sense them draining out of him, over the edge of the deck and down, down, down, into the great depths below him, and he feels lighter, somehow more whole than he has in a long time, even as he feels himself empty out the intensity of the night’s events.

“I don’t know what I feel,” Harry says softly. “There was too much tonight that wasn’t mine. I’m...I’m happy for Niall, I know that. I didn’t even know he’d been lonely, but we were talking earlier. He was attracted to them both, you know, and was sad that he couldn’t be with them. I think I’m scared too, for what this means for me.”

“For your business?” Louis asks, and there’s no judgement in his voice. “I know you said you guys work together a lot.”

Harry stares at him and frowns. “No, I’m not worried about that. There’s other Amps I can work with, I know a bunch of freelance folks, and I’ve worked with them before when Niall wasn’t around, that’ll be fine. No, it’s that Niall’s my shield.”

Harry pauses as he truly thinks about how much a part of his life Niall is, how much Niall protects him and takes care of him, and how terrifying it feels to face a future that won’t have Niall in it all the time, right by his side, holding his hand. He tries to find the words to explain it to Louis.

“We’re not soulmates, but we are soulbonded. He’s my best friend. He’s pretty much my only true friend.” Harry gulps as something else hits him. “He’s the only who touches me besides my family,” he whispers. 

Louis looks shocked. “What do you mean? I didn’t think you guys were lovers?”

“No, we’re not, never have been,” Harry says firmly, “But you don’t know how it is when you’re an empath, haptic or not. It’s actually easier for us haptics because we can at least have friends. We only read when we’re touching someone. But it turns out, most people don’t really want a lover who can read their emotions, because there’s no way to lie. Same with friends, really. I figured out pretty quickly that most of my friends aren’t that comfortable with me reading them.”

Louis’ face falls and he looks so sad for Harry that Harry has to turn away. “No, it’s okay, I’m pretty used to it at this point. It’s just, I’ve known Niall since I was three years old, and I’ve been reading him since then, and he was never once uncomfortable with it, never made me feel like a freak, or like I was stealing something from him, or taking something that he didn’t want to give. Because of Niall, I could go out and do things. It’s just.” He swallows, and says quietly, “It’s just going to be really different now.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, because there’s really nothing  _ to _ say, Harry thinks. Niall’s going to have to move to New York to live with Zayn and Liam because everyone knows soulmates don’t do well if they’re not with their other half, or in this case, Harry snorts a little to himself, his other two-thirds, a lot. So Niall’s going to be moving and if Harry knows his best friend, and he does, this is going to freak him right the fuck out, so it’s going to be up to Harry to help him through that. It’s going to be Harry’s job, not only to let him go, but to kick him out the door.

“Fuck,” he breathes, realizing how much is going to change in his own life. No more movies, probably. No more wandering around downtown with Niall on a spring afternoon. Grocery shopping late night to be safe. Certainly no more clubbing. Okay. He breathes again. He can do this, he can figure this out.

Louis echoes his thoughts. “Man, this is going to change a lot for you, isn’t it.”

Harry nods, glances at him and tries to make a joke, “You’re not a shield, are you? That would be handy.”

Louis’ expression shuts like a door slamming in Harry’s face. “No, I’m not,” he says curtly, and then, “It’s late, and you must be exhausted. Let’s go.” And without looking back to see if Harry is following him, he walks away.

By the time they make it to their doors, Harry is swaying on his feet and feels vaguely like he might vomit. He presses his wand to the door and frowns when nothing happens. He tries again, still nothing. 

“What’s wrong?” Louis asks. It’s the first thing he’s said to Harry since he walked away from him out on deck. 

“Um, my wand, it won’t open the door.” Harry remembers that they’d never checked to make sure his wand was tuned to their cabin. It never occurred to him he might be coming back without Niall.

Louis sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “You know what, just come in, you can sleep in mine tonight, we’ll get it sorted in the morning.” 

Harry stares at him blearily. “Share?” He says finally, “With you?”

Louis opens the door and says impatiently, “Just, get in here, Harry, it’ll be fine.”

Harry follows him in, again impressed with the decor and luxury that’s surrounding him. The sitting room is dark, and there’s neither sight nor sound of the other three. Louis leads Harry into his room, and rummages in the chest drawers. He tosses Harry a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and says, “You can sleep in those. You want first in the bathroom?”

Harry nods, too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, to say much at this point. He heads to the ensuite bathroom and flicks his wand to turn on the light. He was right, it’s as fancy and well-appointed as his earlier glimpse had led him to believe. That moment feels like a lifetime ago, and Harry can’t believe it was only mere hours. He stares at himself in the mirror. He looks terrible, great circles under his eyes, which are bloodshot and glassy with weariness, fine stubble on his cheeks. He sighs, quickly strips down and neatly folds his clothes, leaving them in a small pile on the floor He pulls on the things Louis has given him to wear, washes his face and casts a quick cleaning charm on his teeth. It’ll have to do for tonight. 

He makes his way back out into Louis’ room, who takes one look at him and just points firmly at the bed. Harry can’t argue, he’s too exhausted. He crawls in, startled when he realizes it’s a true king-sized bed, not just two twins pushed together. He rolls over closer to the wall, and by the time Louis turns off the light as he leaves the room, Harry is asleep.


	2. Day 2 & Day 3

**DAY 2**

The next morning, it takes Harry a long time to move from vague awareness to being fully awake. When he finally opens his eyes, he looks around, momentarily disoriented, and then remembers, he’s not at home and he’s not in his own cabin. He’s in Louis’ enormous bed, which is probably the most comfortable bed he’s ever slept in, and he’s conspicuously alone. Given the pristine state of the other side, he’s pretty sure Louis didn’t sleep in the bed with him, and can’t tell if he’s annoyed or grateful. He frowns at that thought. Sharing a bed as an empath is...difficult. He’s never slept the whole night through next to another person.

He yawns and stretches. The shades are down, and he has no idea what time it is, though the sunlight leaking in around the edges is bright enough to make him think he’s slept well into the day. He remembers that he’s left his clothes, along with his phone and wand, in the bathroom and realizing he has a somewhat urgent need for that facility, he makes his way out of the bed to the other room.

He splashes some cold water on his face and is shocked to find that it’s almost 2:00 in the afternoon. Today’s itinerary is simply cruising along towards their first destination, so he hasn’t missed much, except, his stomach reminds him, breakfast and lunch, apparently. He decides to forego putting on his clothes from last night for a moment, casts another quick cleaning charm on his teeth and breath, and heads out of the bathroom. 

“Harry,” he’s greeted by chorus of cheerful voices and then Niall launches himself off of the couch and into Harry’s arms.

Niall clings to him like a limpet, and Harry almost expects to be scaled like a tree. After a long moment, Niall pulls back to look Harry in the face, and Harry can feel him shaking, and frowns at the emotions he’s picking up as Niall whispers, “Harry. Merlin, Harry, I am  _ so fucking sorry.” _

Harry stares at him. “What?” He’s confused, Niall’s found his  _ soulmates, _ for Gandalf’s sake, he should be happy, ecstatic even, not apologizing. “For what?”

“I left you there, in the club,” Harry can hear the shame in Niall’s voice, can feel it coming off of him in waves. “I can’t believe I did that. Were you okay? How did you get out of there?”

“Niall,” Harry doesn’t quite know what to say. “I was fine, Louis was with me.” He can hear the conviction in his voice at the words, and wonders a bit at that, but realizes it  _ feels _ true, like he knows something that his mind hasn’t quite figured out yet . “Really, hey.” And Harry realizes that Niall feels different to him today, muted now in the same way that Zayn and Liam had felt yesterday, and Harry forces himself not to react, not now. He’ll have time to mourn his own losses later, privately. This is a time to celebrate. 

“Niall,” he says firmly, “I know there’s a lot to talk about, and this is scary, but it’s amazing too. You have soulmates, two of them, you greedy bastard. That’s incredible.” His voice softens as he holds Niall’s gaze, willing him to believe. “Niall, I am so, so happy for you, for all of you.”

He widens his smile to include Zayn and Liam who are sitting on the couch, poised, it looks, to come to Niall’s defense, should he need it. They may be Niall’s soulmates, but they don’t know him like Harry does, not yet. Niall is Harry’s best friend, and they’ve  _ been _ best friends since they could talk, and Niall will never need protecting from Harry. As he smiles, Niall wraps him in a hug so tight that Harry can barely breathe, and Harry can feel the relief pouring off of him. 

Finally Harry extricates himself. He looks up to see Louis standing in the kitchenette, drinking a cup of coffee and watching him over the rim of the mug. When Harry catches his eye, Louis raises the mug in a silent salute and knowing nod, and Harry feels his own lips quirk into a smile in return. 

“I’m starving,” Harry announces to the room at large. “I want bacon and I want pancakes and I want coffee, but first, I want a shower.” And with that, the unspoken tension in the room eases and Harry breathes a silent sigh of relief. This will be okay, he will get through this.

They get Harry’s wand situation with the door sorted out, and he wonders if this is what the walk of shame feels like, traipsing back to his room in Louis’ boxers and t-shirt, holding his clothes tucked under his arm. He showers with Niall perched on the toilet, chattering away at him, telling him about the moment at the club, and the many, many moments thereafter in more detail than Harry really needs, but he’s not going to tell Niall to stop.

Until, that is, Niall says, “And then, when we went to bed,” and Harry says firmly, 

“I’m going to have to stop you there, my friend. I can see by the size of the love bite on your neck. And arm. And thigh, that you had a good night, but I think maybe you should just let me imagine the details, eh?”

He tilts his head back to finish rinsing the shampoo from his hair and finally shuts off the water.

Niall snickers as he hands him a couple of towels. They really are a bit too close, Harry muses, as he wraps one around his hair and the other around his hips.

“I’ll just say,” Niall says finally, “It’s never, ever been like that for me, Harry. I mean, you know, I’ve had some decent sex, but honestly, I’ve never really understood what the big deal is,” and Harry freezes. They’ve talked about it, of course, and Harry has always wondered why it was that neither of them had ever really felt that intensity of desire that some of his other friends have talked about, but now that Niall has a soulmate, it seems that things have changed for him, and Harry can’t help but wonder about the implications of that.

Now that he’s clean and dressed, Harry’s main concern is to get food, so he and Niall wander next door to see if anyone wants to come hang out with them. They find Zayn and Liam in the hot tub, sipping champagne, and Harry tries not to notice the multiple love bites scattered over both of their chests. He looks around for Louis, who is nowhere to be found. 

“He’s at the gym,” Liam says, watching Harry carefully.

“Oh, what?” Harry says, pretending he has no idea what Liam is talking about.

“Louis. He’s at the gym. I mean, you were looking for him, right?” Liam raises one eyebrow and Harry can feel himself blushing a bit. 

“Um, yeah, I guess. Just wondering.”

Liam shrugs and grins. “He should be back any minute,” and as if summoned by his words, the door to the cabin open, and Louis comes in, and Harry immediately feels all the blood drain from his brain into his groin, because Louis is wearing loose basketball shorts, slung low on his hips, vintage Converse high tops that have seen better days, and has his shirt off and draped over his shoulders, and he’s,  _ oh Merlin, _ he’s all sweaty and his hair is ruffled and Harry feels a pulse of longing that shocks him. Was this what Niall was talking about? Of course, Louis isn’t his soulmate, but he’s undeniably attractive. That’s all it is.

Louis steps out through the open sliders and grins, then uses his shirt to wipe his face and Harry thinks faintly that he really needs to sit down, because Louis is a sight to behold in the afternoon sun, and he’s got a smattering of chest hair, and there’s a fine line of hair leading down to his…

Harry sits suddenly as Niall shoves him into a chair and thrusts a glass of champagne into his hand, and whatever spell Louis has cast is broken as Harry takes a long drink, savouring the bubbles on his tongue, and wonders what the hell is happening to him.

By now it’s close to 3:30, and Harry is still hungry. Zayn has some snacks, so Harry tides himself over with those until they’re ready to head out for dinner, bidding a mournful farewell to the pancakes. There's always tomorrow. That night they’re planning to eat in the main dining room, which has a more casual dress code, though it does not, Zayn insists, extend to bathing suits, and he and Liam move into their bedroom to get dressed.

By now, Louis has also showered and changed, and they head off, and Harry can’t help thinking about how quickly you can bond to people under these kinds of circumstances. It’s only their first full day on the cruise, and apparently they’ve already set the precedent that they’ll all be eating together.

But, Harry reminds himself with a jolt, with Niall’s soulmate bonding to Zayn and Liam, they’re not just random travelers thrown together, are they? They’re more like family now, and he breathes a small prayer of thanks that Zayn and Liam seem like really cool guys, lovely, funny, interesting. He sneaks a glance at Louis as they all make their way down the hall.

Niall squeezes his hand and Harry looks at him. Niall slows them down a bit so they’re a little ways behind the other men. “You okay, H?”

“What?” Harry is confused. “Yeah, I’m good, Niall. Why do you ask?”

Niall shrugs, “You just seemed to zone out earlier, and then just now, you had a funny look on your face, so I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay, all recovered from yesterday.”

Harry laughs, a bit forced, “I should be asking you that, shouldn’t I? I mean, I’m not the one who acquired not one, but two soulmates yesterday!”

Niall laughs and shrugs, apparently diverted from his original line of questioning, and Harry breathes a sigh of relief that he doesn’t seem to have noticed Harry’s slight, very slight, he assures himself, preoccupation with Louis.

He listens as Niall talks all the way down to the dining room about things he’s already learned about Zayn and Liam, and smiles, making the right response in all the right places, but if asked, he wouldn’t be able to deny that he’s distracted. Very distracted by Louis’ laugh, his blue eyes, his fucking thigh holster, the edges of which are visible under the line of his shorts. Not that Harry is looking closely or anything. When they get to the dining room, it takes a moment, but they get settled in a table in the corner of the dining room. 

Dinner, while not quite up to the standards of the Chef’s Table, is very good, and Harry enjoys the large steak and salad he gets. They’re having one of those magical evenings, where conversation flows, funny stories are told, and they’ve begun the work of really getting to know one another, and Harry can’t help marveling how right this all feels. 

And then it happens. 

Harry lifts his wineglass to take a sip as Louis tosses his napkin on the table and says, “I’m just going to run to the restroom, gentlemen.” As he stands, the waiter approaches, and Louis turns a bit to move out of her way as he gets up. Then, Harry feels a brief, almost unnoticeable touch as Louis moves closer and brushes against him. Not enough so that Harry could read him, but enough to send a small spark skittering under the skin of his forearm where Louis’ elbow brushes him. Harry feels an intense pulse of magic through him and his wine glass explodes in his hand.

There’s a moment of chaos as the waiter gasps, “Oh my goodness, let me get a rag,” and Harry sits, a bit stunned, careful not to cut himself on the shattered remnants of his wineglass as the lovely sauvignon blanc drips down his legs. He can feel his face turning red as Louis gives him an affectionate eye roll as he leaves the table.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says repeatedly as the waiter waves his wand, directing the shards of glass into the dustpan and carefully wipes him down, “I don’t know what happened.” He flushes, uncomfortable the attention he’s receiving. “I must have just, I don’t know. Grabbed it too hard.”

“No more wine for you tonight,” Zayn jokes, while Niall just gives him a perplexed look but doesn’t seem inclined to ask him any more questions.

Louis gets back from the bathroom and the incident is left behind as they finish their desserts, and decide to turn in, as it’s already almost 11:00. The itinerary for the next day is another day of cruising, so there’s no rush for anything in the morning, and Harry realizes it’s been a very long time since he’s been able to sleep and rise by the whims of his own internal clock. 

When they get back up to Deck 10, there’s a moment when Harry realizes that Niall is only coming in to get his things for the night, as Zayn leans in to press a kiss to the corner of Niall’s mouth and murmur, “We’ll leave the door unlocked for you, sweetheart. Don’t be too long, okay?”

Harry takes a long, deep breath as he and Niall enter their cabin, or, he thinks, his cabin now. 

Niall gathers his things and pauses awkwardly by the door before leaving. “H, is this…” He stops, clearly not sure what to say, and Harry sighs.

“Of course it is.” He pastes a smile on his face and gives thanks that he’s the empath and not Niall, because all it would take is one brief touch for Niall to see how he really feels. “C’mon, you need to get over there.” 

Everyone knows that when soulmates first bond, they need to be together, a lot, to help the bond settle and deepen, and, if the soulfic Harry has read on the internet has any basis in reality, that togetherness needs to include a whole lot of athletic and enthusiastic sex. Not that he really wants to think about his best friend getting off with Zayn and Liam, as hot as they are, and he hopes the silencing charms are up to snuff, for Louis’ sake. Anyway, he shakes his head at his own distracted thoughts and, as he looks at Niall, his smile becomes more real. Small, but it’s there. 

“Niall,” he says firmly, “No guilt, okay? I’m fine, I don’t feel abandoned. I really am happy for you, so go and be with your boys, and I’ll see you all in the morning, okay?” He gives a wicked grin as he adds, “I mean, try to get some sleep, okay? ”

Niall flushes and hugs him, and Harry shudders a bit at the excitement and lust pouring off of him. “I know this isn’t what we expected, H.”

Harry shrugs, “I mean, how could you? Unless you’re Zayn, I guess. Now, go!” Laughing, he shoves Niall towards the door, and doesn’t let the smile drop until the door has clicked shut firmly behind him.

**DAY 3**

In the morning, Harry yawns and stretches. Glancing at his phone, he sees that it’s just past 8, and as there’s no word from Niall yet, he assumes they’re still sleeping. He tries to remember the last time that he’s had an entire day stretching ahead of him with nothing to do, other than, well, yesterday of course. He could read, he thinks, he could go get breakfast or…he could take advantage of having the room to himself.

He runs a hand down his body, pondering, not for the first time, the fact that he doesn’t Read himself. He’s actually quite glad about that. At times it’s hard enough to be experiencing his own emotions from the inside. He thinks that if empaths could Read themselves, they might just go mad, or get caught up in a feedback loop that would be very difficult to break out of. In any case, he shoves his boxers down around his ankles and then kicks them off. He lets his hand drift down to grasp his cock, which is beginning to perk up and take an interest in the proceedings. He pauses for a moment, and then hops up to rummage in the top drawer of the built-in dresser where he’s stashed his lube, and grabs the bottle. He sets it on the bed next to him, and lies back, lets his eyes close.

He takes his time, runs his hands up over his abdomen and then down to cradle his balls, hissing at the contact. He coats his hand with lube and lets it glide, slick and fast over his dick, which is now hard. He presses a thumb to the tip, and lets images build behind his eyes.

He pictures Louis, coming back from the gym, sweaty and half-dressed. Louis snickering into his glass as he makes that immature wand joke, unable to keep from laughing at himself. Harry’s hand speeds up, and he’s panting now, breath coming out in harsh gasps. Louis lounging in the hot tub, sipping champagne, looking like he should be on the cover of a magazine. Then Harry remembers the look in Louis’ eyes, that first night, up on the deck at the Diamond Lounge, and the gentle tone in his voice as he’d asked “Are you okay?” and gives a long, low groan and comes all over his hand and stomach.

He has no idea what this is that he’s feeling, and he’s pretty sure that even if he could Read himself right now, it wouldn’t help.

After he gets cleaned up and dressed, Harry makes a cup of tea and wanders out onto his little balcony. The air is warm, there’s a cheerful little breeze dancing off the ocean, and there’s nothing in front of him but sky and water. He’s carefully dragging one of the loungers closer to the railing so he can prop his feet up on the railing when he hears a voice saying, “Harry?”

He opens the louvered blinds on his side to find Louis peering through at him, smiling, and, remembering his morning extracurricular activity, flushes a bit.

“Hey, Louis,” he says.

Louis smiles, bright and innocent. “Hey, want some company? It’s still quiet over here and I’m starting to go a bit stir crazy.”

This, Harry thinks, is not surprising. Louis has a strong, kinetic energy about him, and Harry can just picture him pacing the living room before coming out on the balcony, tapping his fingers on his leg, running his hand through his hair, in constant motion.

“Yeah, come on over,” he says happily, “I’ll open the door for you.”

Louis comes in holding a mug from which the lovely scent of coffee comes wafting, and they go back out onto the balcony and get settled.

As they talk, Harry notices again the ways that Louis is so funny and engaging, not to mention ridiculously attractive, and all the things he’s not saying. Harry still has no idea what he does for a living, what his gifts might be, and has to bite his tongue not to ask. They talk instead about the view, what sorts of sharks might be swimming in the sea around them, other places Louis has traveled, as Harry has not been much of anywhere outside the United States.

As Louis speaks, Harry watches him out of the corner of his eye, feeling himself drawn to the other man in a way that feels different. New. 

That afternoon, after the other three finally make their way out to the balcony, sleepy and looking far too sated to be in public, they decide to head back up to the pool deck. They get settled and Perrie wanders up again, and smiles.

“Well, hello, boys,” she says cheerfully, throwing down cocktail napkins, “What’ll it be today? Beer? Wine?” She gives Niall a smirk, “Vacation-sized margaritas?”

The whole table nods enthusiastically as one at that, and she laughs. “And, of course, snacks, yeah?”

Niall smiles at her wholeheartedly. “Perrie, if I hadn’t just lost my heart to these two handsome fellas, I’d be thinking that you were my soulmate.” 

Perrie rolls her eyes at him, and Harry grins to himself. What Niall’s said is, of course, borderline risqué but he somehow manages to infuse it with a kind of humor and affection that Harry can only envy, never really emulate.

“Sorry, love,” Perries says fondly, “I’m already bonded.” She wanders off to get their food and drinks and Niall looks after her approvingly. 

“Well,” he says, “I hope whoever is bonded with her knows how lucky they are.”

They eat and drink, and Louis pulls out the brochure for their options for the shore excursion for tomorrow, when they’ll be docking in St. Kitts. Harry has to take several deep breaths as Louis assumes a leadership role that Harry has to admit, he himself doesn’t really enjoy but still feels is his. At one point, as they’re arguing over the choice between the scenic double decker train ride and the tour that will take them to both a brewery and a rum distillery, Niall casually drapes his arm around Harry and simply squeezes.

Harry can feel the amusement coming off of him and frowns. “Hush, you,” he says, shoving Niall’s arm off of him, and the others look interested.

“Sometimes,” Harry huffs, “Niall likes to offer...commentary.”

Zayn snorts as Louis looks interested, and they end up deciding on the walking tour. Harry only sulks a little while while Louis rolls his eyes at him.

It’s late afternoon, and the others are in the pool, engaged in a spirited game of chicken when it happens again. Liam is toting Niall, while Louis has Zayn boosted up on his shoulders, and Harry at first is swimming around the edges, occasionally sending random burst of magic to make waves and splash them all. The battle comes to a vicious conclusion which results in Zayn falling in one direction when Louis topples to the side, directly at Harry, who’s been drifting around lazily on his back, having lost interest in the fight. Harry startles when he feels the brief brush of fingers on his thigh, which sends a burst of magic pulsing through him, and flails, sinking under the surface for a moment. When he reemerges and wipes the water out of his eyes, he hears shouts of confusion and sees the others all staring down towards the end of the pool, where thankfully, there aren’t any people swimming right now.

Because a waterspout has formed in the deep end of the pool. It’s a good twenty feet tall, and Harry can’t help but notice that it’s vaguely phallic in shape, and as he watches, a spurt of water shoots out of the tip and then the whole thing collapses.

Oh Merlin. Harry’s pretty sure that was his fault, and breathes a brief thanks to Gandalf that no one was caught up in his magic leakage.  _ This is very weird, _ he thinks, frowning. He hasn’t had issues with his control like this since puberty hit him like a trainwreck when he was fifteen. As he thinks about what could be going on, he hears, from the side of the pool, a lanky adolescent boy saying loudly “It wasn’t me, mom,  _ Circe!”  _ And then the boy storms off while the mom sits back, looking annoyed. 

Harry hears Zayn and Louis snickering as they elbow each other, and Liam mutters, “Gandalf, I’d hate to go through that again.” 

Harry can’t help but notice Louis watching as the teenage boy leaves, then glancing at Zayn and Liam before taking a noticeable breath and ducking down under the water and swimming away.

For the next couple of hours, Louis seems a bit subdued, and Harry can’t help but puzzle over why. No one else seems to notice, however, and he feels like it’s not really his place to comment, so he simply watches. And wonders.

That night, Harry drifts off to sleep with a vision of blue eyes and a bright smile behind his eyes.

_ Harry is walking through a jungle, and he can hear his companion up ahead, calling impatiently, “Come on, Harry, move your lazy ass, we don’t have a ton of time and I want to see this waterfall!” Harry pushes through vines and underbrush, finally coming out into a clearing. He sees a spectacular waterfall, plunging down the side of a cliff into a deep blue pool, turbulent nearer the falls, and calm near the rocky edges. Standing at the edge of the pool is Louis, wearing only a bright pink Speedo, and Harry frowns at the idea of Louis hiking through this rain forest in bare feet. All worries are forgotten, however, as Louis turns his back, strips off the bathing suit, and, tossing a cheeky wink over one shoulder to a dumbfounded Harry, dives into the pool, the sunlight glinting off the delectable curves of his bottom as he hits the water. Suddenly Harry is at the edge of the pool too, and he’s naked, and oh god, Louis is treading water, looking up at him and licking his lips and saying, “Get down here, Styles, now,” and Harry jumps. _

_ From there, things move quickly, Louis kisses Harry forcefully, and runs a hand down over him to grasp his achingly hard cock, and Harry moans, letting the water support him as he moves with the motion of Louis’ hand. Louis pulls him closer, murmuring in his ear as he jerks Harry off, “So hot, you’re so fucking hot, Merlin, can’t wait to get my tongue all over you,” and Harry comes with a shout,  _ and is thrown out of the dream by the sound of a loud crash and the splash of icy cold water all over his face and the bed.


	3. Day 4 & Day 5

**DAY 4**

Harry stares into the dim light of the pre-dawn morning, heart pounding, utterly disoriented and trying to piece together what’s just happened. He finally grabs his wand and waves it distractedly, and the lights come on in the cabin. He looks around and then peeks under the covers. Yes, the dream was definitely satisfying, and he’s going to need a shower sooner rather than later, not to mention clean sheets. He finally puts it together. The...conclusion of his vivid and extremely arousing dream has caused another leak of magic, this time as an NME, and he’s apparently exploded the water pitcher that was sitting on his bedside table, resulting in the sound and ensuing deluge that had obviously awakened him. 

Concentrating, Harry murmurs the drying incantation, and then carefully cleans up the shards of pottery, depositing them in the trashcan with a wave. Giving up on getting any more sleep at the moment, he heads into the shower. As he scrubs off the evidence of his dream self’s happy ending, he shakes his head. It’s one thing to, you know, appreciate the assets of a friend, but things are starting to feel a bit out of control. And Harry does not like feeling out of control.

Several hours later, Harry finds himself next to Louis when they meet in the waiting area where they will depart for their first shore excursion. Even though it’s only 9:30 in the morning, Harry’s already tired, having been up since 4:30, and he’s not sure there’s enough coffee in the world to keep him going for the three and half hour tour they’re about to embark upon. As they step off the ramp onto the concrete dock and make their way to where they’ve been told to meet their guide, Harry can feel Louis looking at him.

“What?” He finally asks, feeling an odd blend of mild irritation and not-so-mild attraction.

“You just,” Louis says finally, “You’re on vacation. You know that, right? You look a little bit rough today.”

Harry looks down at his outfit. He’d opted for loose linen shorts and a jade-green t-shirt, knowing they were going to be out in the sun off and on all day. “What do you mean? I thought it wasn’t too dressy?”

“No,” Harry glances over as Louis shakes his head, smiling. “No, more, you just look, I don’t know, a little tired or something.”

Harry thinks about what was going on in his mind when he was prematurely awoken that morning and is unable to stop himself from flushing, as he prays to Circe that Louis is not a telepath and mumbles, “I just, you know. Woke up early for some reason. Couldn’t get back to sleep. And,” he can’t resist the dig, “It wouldn’t be an issue if we were on the train tour, Louis. I mean, we’d be riding around, sipping cocktails while watching the scenery, it would have been glorious. Glorious and  _ seated.”  _

Louis snickers. “Harry, even I could see that as soon as I mentioned a brewery stop, and not just any brewery, the Carib brewery where they make Guinness? Not to mention a historic rum distillery? There was no way that train tour was happening, and you know that as well as I do.”

“Okay,” Harry concedes grumpily, “Fine,” and then they find their tour guide and they’re off.

By the time they are back on the ship, Harry is exhausted, and just wants a shower and a drink, and to not move again for several hours. When he proposes this plan, there’s enthusiastic agreement, and when they convene on the deck an hour later, Harry sinks into his chair with a groan.

“You look tired, sweetie,” Perrie says, as she drops the vacation-sized margarita that Harry hasn’t ordered in front of him. 

“Three and a half hours and then Niall made me carry all the rum he bought because he’d bought beer.”

Niall grins and Harry frowns at him. “I mean, you have soulmates now, Niall, shouldn’t they be carrying your stuff?”

Zayn just raises one eyebrow and gives Harry a disgruntled look, and Liam snickers. “I was carrying stuff too, man.” Harry compares Liam’s sculpted biceps to his own, decidedly less-sculpted arms, and sighs.

“Anyway,” Niall says reasonably, “You’ll be thanking me when we’re back on land, Harry, and having rum punches after work…”

His voice trails off and he and Harry stare at each other for a long moment as it occurs to everyone that he and Harry won’t be having too many of those after-work moments anymore, because Niall’s moving to New York when they get back. 

Harry forces himself to smile and says with bravado, “I’ll just have to come to New York and visit, right? We can have cocktails on you guys’ insane roof deck or whatever you have.”

Niall just nods, and Harry catches Louis’ eye over the rim of his glass as he drinks, and Louis gives him a gentle smile and a nod and Harry thinks back to what Louis had shared with him that first night, about how it felt to see your best friend bonding to someone else, and nods back. Louis gets it, he thinks. Louis understands.

They spend some time in the pool, and then more time at the table, and at one point, it’s just Harry and Louis when the other three are off in the hottub.

Louis yawns and stretches and Harry can’t help the way his gaze is drawn to Louis’ chest and down his abs where there’s a trail of fine dark hair disappearing under the waistband of his swim shorts. He snaps his gaze away as Louis settles back against the cushions of his lounge chair and grins.

“Not a bad life, is it?”

Harry laughs. “Not at all. I’ve never really been on vacation like this before, it’s so amazing.”

He wonders if he sounds naive, or unworldly, but it’s true. He’d grown up in the suburbs of Boston, and his parents’ idea of a vacation was to go spend a week in Western MA with his grandparents. He mentions as much to Louis who just smiles.

“I never went on vacation either, not until Liam and Zayn, you know. Bonded. Li and I didn’t have a ton of money, and before that...” His voice trails off for a moment and then he says quietly, “Well, I had even less.”

Harry’s ears perk up, and he wonders if Louis is going to share any more about himself or his history, or, just anything really, but he falls silent, playing with the straw in his drink. 

They’re sitting in companionable silence, both reading on their phones, when Louis stretches again and then hops to standing as Perrie approaches, standing to one side of Harry’s chair. 

“I’m about to go off-duty, loves,” she says, “Can I get you anything else?”

They both shake their heads and Harry protests when Louis hands over his wand to close out their tab, but Louis just rolls his eyes at him.

“Harry,” he says finally, “Let me. C’mon. I do know how you feel, but Zayn, this is what he loves to do. Let him give you this great vacation.”

Harry sighs, and not realizing Perrie is handing back Louis’ wand over his head, yawns and stretches, and then feels the back of Louis’ hand gently brush his own fingers, so quickly he’d think he’d imagined it except for the now almost-familiar pulse of magic that throbs in his core, and Perrie gives a short cry of surprise and when Harry turns to look at her, her platinum hair has now gone a lovely, cotton candy pink shot with violet highlights.

She sees his eyes widen and says in a resigned tone, “What is it?”

“Um,” Louis says, “It’s your hair, Perrie. It’s gone a lovely shade of pink. It’s actually,” he frowns, considering, “It’s actually ridiculously flattering.”

Perrie sighs. “Well, I certainly felt that happen. I mean, we have so many teenagers on board, it’s certainly not the first time I’ve gotten caught in someone's accidental magic, but I’ve never had them do my hair before!” She grins as Harry slides down in his chair, heart racing.

He’s pretty sure, once again, that this is his fault, but he’s too embarrassed to say anything. What is happening to him?

**DAY 5**

The next morning, which happens to be the Equinox, Harry wakes up from yet another delicious dream with the clear evidence of yet another NME around him, this time in the form of his dresser drawers being emptied, contents strewn everywhere, Harry finally decides to make a visit to the staff healer. Things are out of control and he’s starting to get scared. What if there’s something really wrong? He can’t imagine what might cause his magic to flare like this. It hasn’t been this bad since he was 15, for Gandalf’s sake, and whatever it is, he thinks, it can’t be good.

Harry makes his way down to the healer’s office in the bowels of the ship on Deck 2. He steps into an empty waiting room, and quickly presses his wand into the slot on the kiosk, to sign in and have his medical records called up to the healer’s desk. He sits down on the comfortable couch, too nervous now to do anything but wait. After about five minutes, in which he decides he’s pretty sure he’s got some sort of a brain tumor, the door opens and lovely young witch calls out, “Mr. Styles?”

Harry leaps to his feet and as he follows her into her office, he says “Um, just call me Harry, please.”

The healer smiles at him. “It’s nice to meet, Harry. I’m Jesy Nelson, and I’m one of the staff healers. What can I do for you today?”

She indicates that he should take a seat in the chair in front of her desk, and seats herself behind it, smiling encouragingly at him.

Harry coughs, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m, err. I’m having some...difficulty with my magic.” 

Healer Nelson raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him. “Difficulty? What sort of difficulty?”

“I’m.” Harry sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “This is embarrassing.”

Healer Nelson smiles, the grin transforming her face into something much more approachable. “Harry, I am a fully trained healer, and believe me, I’ve heard a lot in my career. I mean, just yesterday I had a gentleman in here who took advantage of his private balcony to indulge in some nude sunbathing and forgot his sunscreen charms. Things that had never seen the light of day were...well-toasted, shall we say?” As Harry snickers, vaguely alarmed at the mental image, she continues, “Please be assured, everything you tell me will be held in strictest confidence. There’s no need to be embarrassed, and I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Okay.” Harry takes a deep breath. “I’m having trouble with my control. It hasn’t been like this since I was sixteen, I’ve exploded my wine glass, accidently dyed someone’s hair pink, and caused a small waterspout in the pool. Well, not so small actually”

Jesy is taking notes as he speaks, and frowns. “Any other occurrences?”

Harry flushes, “For the last couple of nights, I’ve had. Um. You know. NMEs.”

Jesy, Gandalf love her, doesn’t bat an eye, just makes another note. “Nocturnal Magical Emissions? What was the, err, evidence for that?”

Feeling oddly relieved that she’s not laughing at him, at least to his face, Harry says, “Well, two nights ago, I exploded my water pitcher, and last night, I emptied the contents of the dressers onto the floor. All in my sleep.”

“Really.” Jesy frowns. “How was your control prior to coming on vacation? I’m assuming this is a change?” 

Harry nods. “Nothing was any different, no troubles at work, no night-time, err, problems.”

“Well,” Jesy says, “Let’s get you onto the exam table and run some diagnostics.” 

She leads him into the exam room, and Harry grins at the sight of the burly, grey cat, tucked up in loaf position on the exam table, yellow eyes staring thoughtfully at him. He loves cats and they tend to love him.

“Who’s this, then?” he asks.

Jesy rolls her eyes, giving Harry a glimpse of the person beneath the professional role. “That’s Mr. Jenson.”

Harry tries not to smile as he slides onto the table next to Mr. Jenson, who eyes him imperiously and then rolls carefully onto his back, presenting a vast, velvety tummy to Harry.

“You call your cat Mr. Jenson?” The cat fixes a baleful gaze on Harry, who hastily begins rubbing the belly that’s been presented to him, and Mr. Jenson looks a bit mollified as he begins to purr. 

“Well,” Jesy shrugs, “He just showed up recently, and I wouldn’t say he’s my cat, really. I don’t know him well enough to call him by his first name.”

As Harry rubs Mr. Jenson, he can feel the deep contentment rolling off of the cat and a certain wry amusement as well, and then. “Oh,” Harry looks up at Jesy and smiles, “You can, you know. He’d be fine with it. He’s picked you.”

Jesy stares at him, startled and then understanding crosses her face. “That’s right, I saw that on your chart, you’re haptic empathetic, yeah?”

Harry nods, and goes to pull his hand off of Mr. Jenson, or Franklin as he’s indicated he’d be fine being called. Franklin lays one paw heavy onto Harry’s hand, and then very, very carefully, extends his claws so that they’re barely brushing Harry’s skin. The message is clear, and Harry snorts as he begins to rub the belly again. They can do this the easy way or they can do this hard, but Harry  _ will _ continue to rub the belly he’s been offered like the gift that it is. Franklin has a lovely, deep, and calming energy about him, and radiates contentment as Harry pets him.

Jesy casts charm after diagnostic charm on Harry, frowning and making notes as she goes. She doesn’t say much of anything to Harry, other than, “Take a deep breath” or “Stand and jump up and down” or “Touch your toes.” Franklin eventually becomes alarmed by the flashing lights of the charms, glares at them both for a long moment and then leaps from the exam table, and stalks from the room, the tip of his tail twitching haughtily. 

Finally, Jesy sets down her wand and looks at Harry, who stares back, heart pounding in his throat.

“Harry,” Jesy begins carefully and Harry closes his eyes. 

“Is it a brain tumor?” He asks quietly, waiting to hear her seal his fate.

“What?” At the shock in her voice, Harry opens his eyes.

She moves quickly next to him. “No, Harry. C’mon, come back into my office, and we’ll talk.”

Harry follows her back into the other room, and scoops Franklin up to settle him on his lap, where the cat curls up and immediately goes to sleep, the pleasure emanating from him fading to low background noise as he snores softly. He takes deep breath and then says, “Okay, what did you find?”

Jesy peers at him over his folded hands and says finally, “You’re in perfectly fine health, Harry. Okay, yeah, you’re a bit run down, your iron is a little low, but I don’t see anything in the physical readings that makes me concerned. I’ve attached copies of all of my tests to your health records, so your PHW will be able to see what we’ve done, but there’s nothing here to indicate anything major going on.”

Harry closes his eyes again, this time in relief. It’s been unsettling, to say the least, losing control and experiencing such magical flare-ups, and he’s been genuinely concerned. Then he opens his eyes to look back at Jesy. “So, if it’s not something physical, why am I having these issues?”

Jesy sighs. “It’s possible, but very, very unlikely there’s something going on physically that I’m just not finding, but Harry. I’m really good at what I do. I checked your magical levels and power rating, and while I also rated you as a C4, there was a bit more fluctuation in your levels than we’d expect to see, based on past testing and ranked power levels. Mid-level Cs tend to be very stable.”

Harry nods, he knows this. Since his post-puberty levels had evened out, he’s been very consistent, and that’s part of what’s been weird. It’s almost like he’s been accessing a much higher level of power than he knows he has, which is pretty much unheard of. The idea of increasing his power levels at his age is very unlikely. 

Jesy continues, “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything else to tell you, Harry, other than I don’t think you have to worry, at least from a physical health standpoint. This may simply be that you’ve been working too hard, and now that you’re on vacation, things are getting a bit wonky as you destress, but pay attention to when it happens, what’s on your mind, who’s around you, perhaps you’re encountering a new soulbond?”

At that, Harry frowns, and closely at Jesy. “Is that something that can happen? New soulbonds can wreck this kind of havoc?”

Jesy looks thoughtful. “No…” She says reluctantly, “Not typically, not with soulbonds. Not that I’ve ever read about, anyway. Soul _ mates, _ yes, finding your soulmate can do all kinds of funky things, clinically speaking, but I think you’d know if that had happened, wouldn’t you?” They both laugh as Harry remembers that flash of light in the club. He’s pretty sure that’s the kind of thing he’d have noticed. “Anyway,” Jesy continues, “think on it and feel free to let me know if I can help. If things continue to be, err, unsettled at night, we can give you a mild sleeping draught. That can help, but for now, I think I’d like to hold off.”

Harry makes his way back to the elevator, going over each incident in his mind, wondering if somehow Zayn and Liam have been the proximal cause for his losses of controls, some weird vicarious thing about being soulbonded to Harry and soulmates to each other and Niall, but as he reviews the incidents, something sticks out. 

He hadn’t been seated next to Zayn or Liam at dinner that night, he’d been sitting next to Niall. And Louis. With the incident in the pool, Louis had been the closest person to him, Zayn had fallen in the other directions. That brush of fingers on his leg had to have been Louis. Up on deck, Zayn, Liam and Niall hadn’t been anywhere around him when he’d turned Perrie’s hair pink. It was Louis that was standing right next to him, Louis and Perrie. And both nights where he’d...leaked magic, as it were, he’d gone to sleep thinking about Louis, and he’d dreamed about Louis. He stops in the middle of the hallway in astonishment. How had he not put this together before?

Harry thinks over each incident and he’s not wrong. In each and every case, Louis was either there, or deep on Harry’s mind. He flushes, thinking about the nature of his thoughts toward Louis and realizes a second thing: other than those brief, accidently touches, Louis has not touched him, at all. Harry shudders a bit as he imagines it. If just a brush of Louis’ arm against him sets him off so powerfully, what will happen if Louis touches him with intent, or when Harry puts his hands on Louis. Harry has no idea, but he’s suddenly very eager to find out.

When Harry gets back to his room, Niall is, as seems to be typical on this trip, not there. Harry stifles his annoyance. The joy and awe on Niall’s face when he’s with Zayn and Liam is so obvious, that Harry can’t help but be thrilled for him, but it’s not the only thing he’s feeling. He wonders a bit if he’ll need to go back to Alison, his mind healer, when he returns to Cambridge, and decides it might not be a bad idea. He’s happy for Niall, but he is also aware both that this vacation, as incredible as it is, has not gone at all the way he’s expected, and that he’s going to processing the impact of his changing relationship with Niall for quite some time. 

He checks his phone and there’s a text from Niall that he’s off rock climbing but that Harry should meet them pool-side for lunch at 1:00. Harry checks the time, and when he realizes he’s got a couple of hours, he grins. He’s going to write down everything he can remember of his interactions with Louis and the ensuing magical...issues, to see if he can start to make sense of this mystery, because right now, he doesn’t have a clue.

When Harry makes his way up to the deck for lunch, his head is spinning and he feels like he hasn’t made any progress in understanding things at all, but he has written out an annotated timeline of everything he can remember, including last night’s explosive (in more ways than one) dream. When he finds the others, they’re sitting warm and sleepy in the sun, and Niall beams at him as he slips into his seat.

He hadn’t told anyone what he was doing, had only said he was taking some down time that morning, so thankfully, no one asks about his meeting with the healer. 

“Harry,” Niall says happily, “You’ve got to try the rock climbing wall, man, it’s so great. Louis made it all the way to the top. I got stuck and freaked out and they had to get the Genie lift to get me down. It was amazing!”

Harry honestly can’t tell which thing Niall is more excited about, and knowing Niall, neither can he. He smiles, because at the end of the day, Niall has been his best friend for twenty five years, and Harry loves him.

Louis grins at him and Harry can’t help the way his pulse jumps at his smile. “Looking forward to the party tonight, Harry?”

Harry shrugs, not quite knowing how to say what he’s actually thinking which is that, no, he’s not looking forward to being in a crowd of wizards and witches, most of whom will be drunk, many of whom will be horny, and the only way for him not to become overloaded will be to hold the hand of his best friend who’s falling madly in love with his two new, extremely attractive soulmates, with whom he’s having amazing sex, and Harry doesn’t get to have either of those things, love or sex, especially not with the man sitting across the table from him who is so hot that he’s apparently causing Harry to go through puberty again.

“Yeah,” he settles on, “Should be fun.”

Louis just gazes steadily at him, and Harry forces a smile, knowing Louis can see right through him.

By the time they get to the party, though, Harry’s more than a little drunk. He’s clinging to Niall, who had taken him aside earlier to assure him in an emotional speech that he was still Harry’s Shield, which had ended with Niall shouting “I love you, you fucking motherfucker” and both of them crying. So, now, they’ve had a few drinks, they’ve gone to the fancy Equinox dinner to celebrate Autumn’s arrival, nevermind that it had been close to 90℉ that day, and is still in the low 80s as they make their way to the ballroom. 

Harry is wearing loose linen shorts and one of his favorite vintage Hawaiian shirts. He has his hair, which has been consistently out of control in the humidity, pulled up into a loose knot on the top of his head, and he feels  _ great, _ thank you very much. So great, in fact, that after an hour of dancing, he tells Niall to go with his soulmates and have fun. 

Niall stares at him. They’re in a less-crowded, dark corner of the ballroom, and Harry can barely feel anything, let alone any unwanted emotional intrusions as he’s danced, holding Niall’s hand. Liam, Zayn and Louis have all been right there, forming a bit of a protective barrier for Harry, and he’s feeling safe, and almost free.

“You sure?” Niall looks perplexed, “Harry, I’m perfectly happy right here with you.”

Harry smiles, “C’mon, you guys haven’t had a chance to dance together, and I know they want you to. Go dance with your boys, have fun. I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy, Niall, I can take care of myself.” 

After another long look, Niall says reluctantly, “If you’re sure,” and when Harry sees the look on his face as he approaches Zayn and Liam, he nods to himself. 

They dance like this a bit longer, and then the music shifts as the lights go even lower, from the thumping bass of the dance music to something a bit slower, sultrier. Harry watches as Zayn, Liam and Niall drift into each other, forming one conjoined unit. Harry sees Liam press up against Zayn, and then Zayn pulls Niall back flush against him, hands low on his hips as they move together and then Harry averts his eyes as Niall’s head tilts back against Zayn’s shoulder, giving Zayn access to his neck, where Zayn busily occupies himself. It’s no surprise to anyone when the three men hastily exit the dance floor at the end of the song, and Niall waves to Harry, who acknowledges his friend’s good fortune with a smile, and a thumbs up. 

Grinning to himself, Harry glances around. He remembers that Louis had said something about going to the restroom, maybe grabbing another drink, so at first Harry doesn’t worry too much about being alone on the dancefloor. And then, he feels a hand on his arm, and freezes, because the emotion come off of this guy is not good. He turns, and sees an ordinary looking man, clearly drunk, who smiles at him, gives him an obvious once over and licks his lips. 

“Hey, babe,” the guy says, swaying in place, his movements off-kilter to the music, “What do you say?”

Harry shakes the man’s hand off of his arm and glares at him. “Don’t touch me again,” he says loudly. “Not interested.”

He’s turning to go find Louis, possibly to suggest it’s time to go, when the man grabs his arm from behind, spins him around, and pushes him up against the wall. “You’ve been shaking your ass at me all night,” the man slurs, pressing his sweaty body against Harry’s, “C’mon, just wanna kiss you.” 

Harry’s head is spinning from the force of this man’s inebriated lust. He feels nauseous, and his legs are shaking. Then, two things happen simultaneously.

Harry hears Louis saying, “What the fuck?” and as he pulls the guy off of Harry, his fingers brush Harry’s shoulder. And then, somehow, Harry’s power surges as he reaches deep inside himself, takes every feeling this man has thrust into him against his will and shoves it back into the guy, who stares at him, horrified.

“Holy Circe,” the guy whispers, “You’re an empath.” His face goes white, his eyes roll back in his head and he drops. Neither Harry nor Louis make any effort to catch him, and he hits the floor hard. Harry does feel a twinge of sympathy, the guy is going to feel that tomorrow, but for the moment, all he wants to do is leave. 

Louis is staring at him, and Harry sees a cruise employee making their way over, as a crowd starts to form around them, and sighs. 

It takes them a half an hour to extricate themselves from the situation. Harry assures the horrified employee that he’s perfectly fine, no harm done, just an unpleasant incident, no lawsuit necessary. He leaves with apologies ringing in his ears and a coupon for 50% off his next cruise applied to his account.

Silently, he and Louis make their way out to the elevators and Harry doesn’t even feel surprised when Louis hits the button for Deck 13. He follows Louis down the corridor and into the Diamond Lounge, but instead of water, Louis orders them each some sort of cocktail and carries them out into the night without looking to see if Harry is following him.

Harry joins Louis at the rail, who hands over a glass to him, which he raises in silent acknowledgement to Louis, who smiles a bit around the edge of his own glass as he takes a sip.

It’s the Equinox and there’s a full moon shining above them over the Caribbean sea, and Harry lets his eyes rest on Louis, who is lit up in the moonlight so that he’s almost glowing. The silver light washes the color from his face, but now Harry knows the exact blue of his eyes, the red of his lips, traces the jut of his jawline with his own eyes, and for one long, breathless moment, lets himself want. 

Their eyes catch and hold, and the air between them sparks so suddenly that Harry wouldn’t be surprised to hear thunder over the water. His heart catches in his throat and it feels like he and Louis have been dancing towards this moment for days now, maybe they’ve always been meant to meet here like this, and Harry’s mouth goes dry. But then, he sees something cross Louis’ face like a shadow, and Louis turns away, the moment broken.

Louis stares out at the night and the sea. “You okay?” He asks finally.

Harry nods, feeling deflated as he turns to look out over the water as well. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never,” Louis’ tone is quiet and Harry has to work to hear him over the noises of the ship. “I’ve never seen anyone do something like that before. Did you know you could?” His voice is calm, devoid of judgement. 

Harry drinks again. The cocktail is sweet with juice and rum, and it taste wonderful. “Nope,” he says, “I didn’t. Never have before. But there’s something weird going on with my magic.” He frowns. He hadn’t intended to share anything with anyone until he got back home and had his PHW check him out. 

“Really?” Now Louis’ voice is tinged with concern. “How so?”

“I just,” Harry flushes as he thinks of how to explain. “I’ve been having some...control issues, you know? Jesy, the healer, doesn’t think it’s anything physical, but we’re not sure what’s going on.”

“Control issues? What kind of control issues.”

Harry groans in embarrassment, “Like, night-time leaking, which hasn’t happened in years. Losing control in public. Perrie’s hair turning pink? That was me.” He resolutely does not mention the common thread he’s noticed, that each time there’s been an incident, Louis has been right there, touching him, however briefly. “It’s like being fifteen again, and I’m sure you remember how awful that was, don’t you?”

“Well,” Louis clears his throat and takes a sip of his drink. “Not as such, no.”

Harry turns to look at him. “What? What do you mean?” Louis is determinedly not meeting his eyes, and Harry knows something important is happening here but he doesn’t know what it is.

Louis finally,  _ finally _ turns to look at Harry, and Harry doesn’t need to be touching him to know that something is very wrong. Louis’ wearing a look of such grief that it strikes Harry to the heart and without thinking, he reaches up to touch Louis’ face, who steps back and halts him with a swift gesture before Harry’s hand connects. Harry’s hand drops to his side.

“Do you remember,” Louis asks, his voice rough, “That first night? When you asked me if I was shield?”

Harry nods. He remembers asking the question and his embarrassment at Louis’ curt answer, when he had clearly overstepped his boundaries. “I do.”

“Well,” Louis runs his hand through his hair. “It’s not so much that I’m not a shield, Harry. It’s…” his voice trails off for a moment. “It’s that I’m not much of anything, really.”

Harry stares at him, confused. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not a shield. In fact, I don’t have any talent. I barely have any magical ability at all.” Here Louis takes a deep breath. “I’m a D4, Harry.”

Harry can’t believe what he’s hearing. D4. That’s not even enough power to magically heat a kettle for tea. It’s enough so that you can open locks, call an elevator, that sort of thing, and you can still function in the world, but only barely. Now, for those rated E, there are special compounds where everything is mechanical and no magical ability is needed at all. Harry’s never been to one, never known anyone who’s been sent away, it’s that rare. But oh, his heart aches for Louis, because while they’re all taught that that magical ability is not related to worth, Harry knows that those who are rated at the D level have a hard time of it. They don’t typically go to college, many don’t even graduate from high school, and most employers won’t hire them as they usually can’t fulfil the duties of most of the jobs Harry can think of, because they just don’t have enough power.

“But,” he whispers, “You carry a wand, I’ve seen it.”

Louis turns to face him and looks him dead in the eye. “Have you ever seen me use it?”

Harry shakes his head. Other than offering it to pay for things or open doors, he realizes, he’s never seen Louis use it, never seen him cast anything at all. He knows he should say something, but he can’t think of the right thing that won’t send Louis running for the door. Coming out as a D, that’s a big deal, and Harry knows the way people can be about mixed-level relationships.

“So, what do you do, then?” Is what he finally settles on, and exhales softly when he sees Louis pause. 

And then, a look of something that Harry thinks might be pride crosses Louis’ face as he says finally. “I work in the non-mag compound in Queens. I’m a handyman. I fix things, and when I have time, I, err. I make things.”

Harry stares at him, fascinated. He’s never heard of such a thing. “You make things? By hand? What kinds of things?”

He sees Louis’ shoulders drop just a bit, and feels a corresponding sense of relief as Louis smiles. It’s a small smile, nowhere near his usual wattage, but it’s real and, Harry thinks, maybe they can get through this and be okay.

“Um, furniture,” Louis says, “And some fine cabinetry work. Folks in the compound appreciate good craftsmanship a lot, so I do okay. When I met Liam, I was fifteen, living on the streets, and I was.” He stops abruptly. “Well, let’s just say, it wasn’t going well. I don’t know what Liam saw in me, but when he stretched out his hand to me, he gave a home, and a brother.” He turns and says fiercely to Harry, “I know you’ve been upset about Niall, how he’s going to be leaving, but I  _ promise _ you, Liam and Zayn, they’re good men — the best — no one could treat Niall better.”

Startled, Harry says, “Louis, I know. I mean, yeah, I am upset, more scared really, that things are going to change, but I’ve never doubted for one moment that Liam and Zayn would do anything but love Niall and support him. They’re his soulmates, they  _ can’t _ do anything else.”

Harry’s mind is still spinning from the information that Louis has given him about his difficult history, his magical status, the details of his life. This conversation has been all over the place and all of a sudden, Harry is tired.

“Do you ever…” Louis’ voice breaks through his reverie, and Harry looks up. “I don’t know, do you ever think about having one? A soulmate?”

Louis is resolutely looking at the water, stretching out before them under the moon, and he’s so beautiful, it breaks Harry’s heart just a little, the idea that there are people who can’t see his worth because of some stupid and arbitrary thing such as power levels.

“I used to,” He shrugs. “You know, when I was little, but now. I’ve been pretty focused on work, building my business.” He doesn’t mention that years of plastering over the hurts left from being able to know what people are really feeling has left him, not disillusioned, he thinks, but guarded. It’s not that there aren’t people who love him. He’s had enough moments with friends where he knows how much they care about him because he can feel it. It just seems that with romantic partners, things get murkier. He’d hoped for a soulmate when he was young, longed for that connection, but as he’d gotten older, he’d set that fantasy aside, and he doesn’t want to admit that seeing Niall’s joy has stirred both envy and a renewed longing in him. “You?”

Louis laughs a bit bitterly. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Have you ever noticed that soulmates tend to be more powerful wizards? I don’t think there’s a soulmate out there in this life for me.” He drains the last of his drink. “Anyway. I guess I just wanted you to know about me. I can understand if that...changes things for you.”

Harry stares at him. “What? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Louis smiles a wry smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nope. Just wanted to say it. “ He shrugs and turns to go. 

Harry reaches out to grab him but stops himself. “Louis,” he says firmly, and the conviction is clear in his voice, “Louis, absolutely not. Your power level doesn’t change anything. I mean, we’ve only known each other a few days, but I.” Here, heart pounding in his throat, he takes the leap, “I mean, you’ve got to know, don’t you? I like you so much, Louis. I think you’re just…” his voice cracks with emotion, “I just think you’re  _ really _ great.”

Louis has turned and is standing there, back to the lounge, moonlight lighting up his face and his eyes are shining. He looks a bit stunned and then his smile flashes. “Yeah?” Is all he says.

Harry nods. “Yeah.”

They look at each other for another long, wordless moment and then Louis murmurs, “It’s getting late, we should get back to bed.”

By the time they’re making their way down the corridor to their respective doors, the last bit of awkwardness between them has thawed, and, Harry doesn’t think he’s imagining that there are sparks flying between them, for all the distance Louis is putting there. 

He stops at his cabin door, and looks at Louis but all he can say is “See you tomorrow?”

Louis nods. “Of course. Tomorrow.” And they exchange one last secret grin, and Harry goes to bed.


	4. Day 6 & Day 7

**DAY 6**

The next day, they’re stopping in Barbados, and they’ve booked a shore excursion for the five of them. Harry is very excited, he loves shopping in the markets, lounging on the beach, and can’t wait to hear some music. And, not to mention, another day with Louis. After their conversation last night, he can’t wait to see what happens today. They’ve decided to meet for breakfast, and Harry is not surprised to find he’s the first one there at their usual table. Perrie wanders over, her pink and violet hair gleaming in the morning sun, to pour him coffee without being asked, and Harry smiles at her, feeling a bit guilty, and decides to take advantage of the quiet moment.

“Um, Perrie, can I talk to you second?”

Perrie looks at him oddly and then says, “Sure, Harry, let me just go put the coffee pot down.” She walks off and he sees her setting down the pot on the burner, and muttering something to her coworker before approaching him. He indicates the chair opposite him, and she sits warily. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Harry closes his eyes in embarrassment for a second. “The other day, when your hair turned pink? I. Oh, Gandalf,” he takes a deep breath and then spits it out, “That was me. I am  _ so _ sorry, and I can try and turn it back to the blonde if you want?”

Perrie stares at him and then bursts out laughing. “Wait, what? What do you mean it was you?”

Harry frowns, this was not the response he was expecting. “I mean, something happened,” He refrains from mentioning that what happened was that Louis’ arm had brushed his hand as he’d stretched, “And I just lost control for a moment.”

“Oh wow,” Perrie is clearly trying hard not to laugh. “Are you sure it was you?”

Harry nods miserably. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s, err, a feeling I remember well from high school.”

“Aww,” Perrie’s face softens. “Harry, I love the pink, it’s no big deal. You did notice I haven’t changed it, didn’t you? I want to keep it. Maybe before the end of the cruise, we’ll just make sure it’s easy to change back, but don’t even worry about it.” Here she laughs, “Man, you had me worried for a moment, I thought you were going to ask me out or something.”

Harry blinks. “What? Perrie. No. I mean,” he back tracks hastily, “You’re lovely, and a beautiful woman, and if I were, you know…”

“Not gay?” She asks helpfully, “And not totally smitten with Louis?”

Harry opens his mouth to protest, and then thinks again. It’s not like he’s  _ not _ totally smitten with Louis, and after their talk last night, he’s actually beginning to think his feelings might be reciprocated just a tiny bit. “Okay,” he allows, “You’re not wrong. So no, I’m not asking you out, sorry.”

Perrie just twinkles merrily at him and smiles, “In any case, you know I’m taken, love. And here’s your gang of merry men, so I’ll just go get the coffee pot.”

The others seat themselves around the table and Louis gives Harry a quizzical look, who just shrugs. 

They spend their morning planning out their shore excursion and by the time they’re in line to disembark the ship, Harry is very excited. They’ve got a few hours and Harry intends to make the most of it. Something odd happens as he makes his way down the ramp to the dock. He’s holding Niall’s hand, of course, gritting his teeth a bit at the press of humanity around him, and someone passing by him bumps into him, and he gets hit with a wave of sadness that feels oddly familiar. He looks sharply at the woman, and frowns, and when she turns to wave at her friend, the sadness she’s radiating masked by her smile, he recognizes her.

It’s Maureen Sullivan, the last dark case he’d had, almost a year ago. She’d asked him to Find something, what was it? Oh yes, a necklace, a gold Tree of Life pendant that had been her daughter’s. He’d been unsuccessful, he’d gotten  _ nothing, _ not one damned flicker, and now here she is, on the cruise ship. It’s a weird coincidence, for sure. She’s talking with her friend, and Harry shrugs internally, not wanting to bother her with what is, he thinks, an unpleasant memory. She glances back, sees him and her eyes widen in recognition. She gives him a funny little nod, and turns away. Well, Harry thinks, that is that.

For the rest of the day, even as he’s sunning himself on the gorgeous white sand beach, and browsing the market with the others, even while he’s sitting on the patio of some dive bar drinking beer and listening to music, he can’t stop thinking about her, and finally, when they’re on their way back to the ship, Louis call him out on it.

“Where’ve you been?”

Harry looks at him, startled. “What do you mean? I’ve been right here, next to you, all day?”

And it’s true, not that he’s been paying  _ particular _ attention to Louis or anything, but Louis’ been orbiting him all day, not getting further than a few feet away from him, but never getting close enough to touch. Not that Harry’s been paying attention.

Louis snorts. “You’ve been somewhere else all day, since we walked off the ship. Where’ve you been?” He’s not irritated, Harry realizes, he’s interested.

“Um, I saw someone I knew. A client from a year ago or so. And I’ve just been thinking about her.”

Louis quirks one eyebrow as Niall, without even looking over from where he’s engrossed in a conversation with Zayn about something comic book related, grabs Harry’s hand as the crowd gets heavier. “Was it a particularly interesting case?”

“It was.” Harry huffs a sigh. “Here’s the thing, I’m actually pretty good at my job, mainly because I know my limits. I Find small things, Louis, and I Find almost all of them. And when I can’t Find them, there’s usually an obvious reason  _ why. _ So when I have a case where I can’t Find something, at all and there’s just nothing, it’s weird. That was her case. I couldn’t help her.” The frustration is obvious in his voice and Louis looks at him more closely.

“You really do like helping people, don’t you?” He asks in surprise.

“Yeah.” Harry says, “I just feel like, it’s a useful gift.” He winces, hoping he hasn’t inadvertently hurt Louis’ feelings, what with him not having a gift and all, but Louis just nods, so he continues. “I mean, it’s not good when it turns out the earring you lost is in your adulterous lover’s car, and not behind the dresser you share with your husband, but yeah, generally, I help people, and I like that.”

Louis snorts at that. “Yeah, I could see how that might get...awkward.”

“It’s okay,” Harry reassures him, “I have a protocol,” and Louis bursts out laughing.

“Somehow, Styles,” he murmurs, “That does not surprise me.”

They make their way back to their deck, and Harry and Niall split off from the others to head to their own cabin to shower. They’re going to meet up with the others in their cabin for a drink before dinner, and they’ve got plans to hang out at the Diamond Lounge afterwards. They’re all a bit sleepy from the day in the sun and all the walking they’ve done, and Harry is looking forward to a quiet night.

It’s during their little cocktail hour that Harry gets his first shock of the night. Zayn has purchased a couple of pieces of art from a street vendor, and he and Liam are talking about where to hang them.

Harry leans over to study the colorful watercolors of flowers and ocean and notes, “They’d actually look amazing in here.”

Zayn’s eyes light up as he looks around, and then he stands up and starts muttering something about afternoon light and wood frames as he wanders around, holding up the paintings to different spots on the wall, and Liam rolls his eyes affectionately as he runs a hand through NIall’s hair, who is sitting on the ground in front of him, leaning back against his knees. “Thanks a lot for that, Harry, now he won’t rest until he’s framed them and put them up.”

Harry frowns. “Zayn, man, we’re only going to be on board another three days, and in any case, I don’t think you’re allowed to switch the art out.”

From where he’s sitting curled up in the squashy arm chair, Louis just mutters, “You are, when you own the boat,” and there’s dead silence in the room as Niall sits bolt upright, and he and Harry stare at each other and then, as one, turn to look at Louis.

Zayn and Liam are staring at each other and then Liam sighs. 

Harry says, “Wait, what? Zayn, what the fuck? You own the boat?  _ This _ boat? The one that we’re on right now?”

His mind is reeling, and he feels a bit off-balance, like somehow this is information that should have come up before now, a week into their cruise. He looks around the cabin and the pieces start to fall into place: the super-luxurious decorations and the high-end beds; how they’ve never had trouble getting a reservation for anything, including the Chef’s Table; how that waitress the first night had been so nervous.

Zayn sets down the paintings and drops onto the couch next to Liam. “Okay. Yes. I own this boat.”

“And,” Liam chimes in reluctantly, “The entire cruise line company, in fact.”

Harry frowns, “But Zayn, why didn’t you tell us? I mean, is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret,” Zayn says, “Though it is a relatively new acquisition. I’m not sure I can fully explain it yet, Harry,” and his voice seems particularly laden with meaning to Harry, but what that might be, Harry can’t tell.

“You just always wanted to get into boats?” Harry asks.

“For Gandalf’s sake, Z, quit with the mysterious, prophetic bullshit,” Louis says loudly from his corner of the room. “You need to just tell him.”

He watches as Zayn waves his hand, and his martini sails carefully across the room, not spilling a drop, Harry notes, envying his power and control, and Zayn takes a long drink before setting it down on the end table next to him.

“Coaster,” Liam hisses irritatedly, and Zayn throws him an annoyed look before pulling a coaster out of the table drawer and resettling the glass onto it.

It’s such a normal moment that Harry can’t help snickering as he waits for Zayn to gather his thoughts. Finally, Zayn speaks.

“In order to understand, you need to know something of my family. My father is from Pakistan and my mother is Irish, from Boston. Her maiden name was Sullivan. My mother had just one sister, they’re only 18 months apart in age, and they’ve been close all of their lives. My mother had me and then my sisters, while her sister, Jacqueline, had just one daughter, my cousin Layla. Layla and I are only three weeks apart in age, we grew up together, as close as siblings. She’s been my best friend for my entire life.”

While Harry is enjoying getting to know Zayn a bit better, he really can’t see how this is related to Zayn’s owning the entire cruise line, but he knows better than to interrupt, and wonders thoughtfully what he’d Read if he reached out to touch the other man now.

“My gift manifested early, and by 16, I was managing my own business affairs, and decided to put off formal schooling. Layla went to college. She’s amazing, just brilliant, though she’s never had much common sense.” Liam laughs at this, and presses his hand to the nape of Zayn’s neck, anchoring him, Harry thinks, grounding him, and Harry shivers, wondering what is coming.

“I met Liam when I was 20, five years ago, and through him, gained a brother in Louis. For a short time, I’d hoped that maybe Layla and Louis were meant to be,” and all three of them snort at that, and Harry wonders yet again, what Louis’ story is. “But, when she was 21, Layla fell in love with, and then had an affair with, her classics professor, Samuel Aronson. She got pregnant, and had her daughter, Grace, at 22.”

Zayn takes a sip of his martini and Harry can see the anguish in his eyes, and almost wants to tell him to stop, but knows, somehow feels compelled to listen all the way through. 

“Now, this man, Grace’s father, is a  _ bastard. _ The first time he hit her,” Zayn’s voice breaks and Harry can see his jaw working as he tries to get himself under control, “It was the day she told him she was pregnant. At first, he pressured Layla to have an abortion, but she stood firm. She wanted Grace, more than anything in the world. By the time Grace was born, the affair was long over. Layla wanted nothing from him, she had no need of financial support, and he’d made it clear that he had no interest in the child. But, for some reason, he wasn’t willing to terminate his parental rights, and a year and a half later, Layla found out why.”

The room is absolutely silent, and Harry can’t help the shiver of fear he feels. He sees the way Liam’s hand rests heavy on Zayn’s neck, giving him a focal point, the way Zayn extends his arm to Niall without thinking, and how Niall is already reaching back to hold his hand.

“It turns out, Samuel was married, and his wife couldn’t bear children, so he showed up on Layla’s doorstep, demanding that she turn Grace over to him. They fought it out in the courts, and there was no evidence that he was an unfit father, so the courts ruled that he must be given joint custody.” Zayn’s voice is cold, bitter. “Legal custody at first, and visitation, so that he could build a relationship with Grace, to work eventually towards shared custody.”

Zayn focuses on Harry. “She was devastated, Harry, but also, she wanted Grace to have a father, and some part of her hoped that maybe Samuel was just growing up a bit, even though he’s 15 years older than she is. And then, one day.” His voice catches and Harry’s heart breaks a little bit.

“One day, Samuel had Grace for his three hours of visitation, but when it came time for him to meet up at the Starbucks where they always did their handovers, he didn’t show. He’d obviously been planning it for weeks, maybe longer, but he and his wife took Grace and ran. He’s a fairly powerful wizard, Harry, he’s a C1, maybe even a B5, and he’s managed to block all attempts to track him. There aren’t any high level Finders in practice right now that we could locate.”

Suddenly, something clicks for Harry and he frowns. “What did you say your mother’s maiden name was?”

Zayn smiles in knowing approval. “It was Sullivan.”

That last dark case. Goosebumps break out on Harry’s arms and he says, “But, she said her name was Maureen.”

Zayn nods. “Layla gave you a fake name because the case had been in the papers and she didn’t want to give away who she was.”

“But,” says Harry, bewildered, “How did she come to me? And what does this have to do with you owning this boat?”

“She came to you, Harry,” Zayn says quietly, “Because I had a vision that you would be the one to help us Find Grace.”

Harry’s jaw drops and Niall gives a soft cry of surprise.

“I didn’t have a visual, I just saw a piece of paper with your name on it. We tracked you down, and sent Layla to you, but you were, as you know, not able to help her. At that time, anyway.”

“I tried,” Harry whispered, “I tried.”

“I know,” Zayn replies. “No one blames you, Harry.” The sincerity in his voice is obvious. “And then, when that effort failed, my visions got...pesky.”

“Pesky?” This question comes from Niall. “Z, what the hell is a pesky vision.”

“Sometimes,” Liam says, “when there’s something really important but Zayn’s not getting it, his gift starts to work harder and harder. So after Layla came back from Boston and seeing Harry, Zayn started having these different random visions, and in one set, it was very clear that he needed to buy this boat. We couldn’t figure out why. He decided that it was best just to buy the whole line,” and here Harry chokes a bit, unable to imagine that kind of wealth, “So he did. Things calmed down for a while, and then he began getting the vision about you, Harry, and this particular cruise.”

“Wait,” Harry says, “Couldn’t you have just, I don’t know, gotten a reservation or something? You didn’t have to buy an  _ entire fucking cruise line _ just to meet up with me, did you? I mean, you could have just made an appointment to come to see me or something?”

Louis snorts at this and raises his drink in a salute to Harry. “I said the same thing myself, but apparently visions can’t be denied or something like that.”

Zayn says serenely, “Harry, it all works out the way it’s supposed to. It is what it is. There’s some reason you’re supposed to be here, on  _ this _ ship, for  _ this _ cruise, with all of us, and I don’t think it’s just for Layla. You needed to be  _ here, _ my vision was very clear, and I needed to connect with you. This was the best way to ensure that it happened.”

“She’s here,” Harry says suddenly. “Layla, she’s on the cruise as well.”

“Yes,” Zayn says, “And we’re hoping, Harry, that you’d be willing to do another reading.”

Harry stares at him. “I mean, of course,” he says, “But Zayn. I got nothing from that reading. Not one glimpse, nothing. I can do it again, I have my things with me, but…” He gentles his voice. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Liam looks at Harry and then says suddenly, “Harry, you do know it’s not just because we’re hoping you can help us Find Grace, right?” Harry frowns as Liam continues, “Zayn had these visions about you helping us, and we think it’s because we’re soulbonded, Harry, surely you don’t doubt that, do you? But...” His voice trails off. “Zayn’s visions aren’t entirely clear to him, but we think there might be more to it than that.”

Harry stares at him for a long moment, not sure what to say. It’s a little unnerving, that the hand of Fate seems to be interfering, and he wonders what more could be happening here. Then his eyes fall on Louis and he feels a tug in his gut. In any case, he returns to the ask at hand, knowing he will do anything and everything within his power to help Zayn and his family. Because, after all, in a way, they're his family too now. 

They decide to have dinner brought to them in the suite, which is apparently a thing you can do if you own  _ the entire fucking cruise line,  _ and while they’re waiting, Harry goes next door to get his working kit. When he comes back, Zayn is setting down his phone.

“I texted Layla, she’ll be up in a half hour, if that works for you, Harry?”

Harry nods, and busies himself, getting ready to perform the Finding. He cleanses the room, first with bells and then with sage. He clears off the coffee table, wiping it down with alcohol and then with a lavendar solution of his own creation. He smiles a bit as the familiar scent fills the air. He lays out his tools: the candle (right now he’s partial to a sandalwood clove blend that smells amazing); the maple cutting board and the razor-sharp santoku knife (he prefers the shape to his other chef’s knife); the herbs Zayn has had sent up from the kitchen (fresh is always better); the silver bowl inscribed with symbols to aid in the Finding. He looks at his selection of herbs: rosemary for clarity; frankincense to aid his gift; and basil, for focus and to help quell his nerves. He lights the candle, then fills the bowl with a quick spell, and begins mincing the herbs, releasing a pungent odor to the room the blends with the lavender. 

Layla enters the cabin and Harry sets aside the cutting board to rise, wincing at the creaking in his knees as he does so. She starts to speak as he approaches her. 

“Harry, thank you. Thank you so much. I hope you don’t feel too...taken advantage of.”

She’s a lovely young woman, but her eyes are haunted, and as Harry looks closer, he can see the ravages of her current situation: the bags under her eyes, the nails bitten down to the quick. She’s much too thin, but there’s no weakness in her. Rather, it seems that in her terror and grief, she’s been honed down to her essence, like a blade. Ready for battle.

Harry gives her a small, reassuring smile. “I don’t. Of course I don’t. Zayn explained. Layla, I’ll do what I can, but I can’t guarantee that anything will be different.”

She just nods. “I know, I know it’s a long shot, but that you’re willing to try again. Maybe now that you know why we’re looking, that will make the difference.”

Harry settles back down and resumes his preparations. Finally, everything is set up to his satisfaction and he leans back and looks around. 

“Okay,” he says, clearing his throat, “Here’s how this works. Niall, can you come sit behind me on the couch?” They’ve worked it out, Niall needs to be close to Harry, but not touching him, in order for Harry to get maximum boost from his Amp ability without his shielding muffling it. Niall slides onto the couch behind Harry, who immediately relaxes.

“I’ll build the circle, Layla, you’ll remember this part. Do you have the photo with you?” She nods, and hands it over, but it’s not the same photo she used last time. This is a photo of a little girl, laughing. She’s got fluffy blond curls and Zayn’s amber eyes, and she’s beautiful. Harry’s throat closes for a second as his vision blurs. He wipes his eyes and examines the photo closely, focusing in on the gold Tree of Life necklace around the girl’s neck. “Hi, Grace,” he murmurs, “Let’s see if we can Find you, baby.” He props the photo up against the silver bowl. “After I’ve built the circle, I’ll put the herbs in the water, and there’s a spell I use to aid in my Finding. Then,” he shrugs, “My gift will either kick in and I’ll See what I need to in the water. Or it won’t.”

“How long will you try?” The question comes from Louis, who is tucked up into the armchair in the corner.

Harry says, “Well, sometimes things come quickly, sometimes they take a while. Even when I get info, sometimes it comes slowly, or in pieces, but I’ve generally got all I’m going to get in an hour or so.” He pauses, takes a breath. “But if it’s dark, like it was last time, no matter how long I try, I won’t be successful. I used to try...longer,” He remembers sitting in position for hours, pushing himself to the brink of collapse, searching for something that could not be Found. “I’ve learned, that never works for me. So yeah. As soon as I know anything, I’ll tell you all.” He looks around, making eye contact with each of them, feeling the weight of their desperate hopes on his shoulders.

“Okay. Let’s begin.” He takes a long, deep breath, and closes his eyes to center himself, diving deep within to find that small well of power that sits, sure and certain, at the center of his soul. He opens his eyes, and picks up the salt. Carefully, he draws a circle around all the tools and the photo, murmuring his favorite incantation as he works. When the circle is closed, he holds his hands high over the table, and gives one, sharp command, the word of power to create the working space, and there’s a brief flash of green light, which seems both to flare from, and then to sink into the ring of salt. He takes the cutting board and carefully scapes the minced herbs into the water, and then, lifting his wand, silently throws the spell to heat the water. 

As he leans over and inhales the steam rising from the bowl, eyes closed, he speaks the words that will place him into his Finding trance, and wishes, as he always does, with some small, secret part of his mind, for more power, but he’s not granted that wish. He never is. He feels the trance settle down over him like a mist, sinking into his body and soothing the nerves that are jittering just under the surface of his skin. At last, ready, he opens his eyes.

It’s not going to work. As soon as he looks at the water, he knows. Harry’s never been able to properly describe how he sees things when he’s in a Finding trance, how he’s not looking at the water exactly, but into it, past it really, into that space that allows him to Find what’s been lost. Now, as he looks, all he sees are the herbs floating on the surface of the steaming water, and beyond that, a deep, dark, inky black. Now that he knows the circumstances of this Finding, it’s very clear to him, he’s being blocked by someone with much more power than he has.

He shakes his head, willing the dark to dissolve. _ Let me see,  _ he begs the Universe,  _ No mother should be left without her child, let me see, let me see, LET ME SEE.  _

He doesn’t realize that he’s shouting the words until he feels Niall’s hand come to rest, heavy and comforting on his shoulder, and he drops back into the room, his breath coming in heaving gasps. He turns immediately to Layla and can see, from the look on her face, that she knows.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I tried.”

Layla murmurs, “I know, Harry. I knew it was a long shot.” She gives a sad smile and Harry can’t believe she’s trying to comfort him. “I could see how hard you were working.” 

Harry glances at the clock and stares, realizing that he was under for over an hour. He turns to Niall who says quietly, “I let you go long, I knew you’d want to give it everything you had, Harry.”

Zayn gets up, and as he passes Harry, who’s still sitting on the floor by the coffee table, he brushes a reassuring hand over Harry’s hair, and then goes to wrap his arms around his cousin, who takes a long, shuddering breath. “I’ll walk you back to your room, babe,” He whispers. “Merry’s there, yeah? Merry will take care of you.”

They exit, leaving silence behind them, and then Liam buries his face in his hands and sobs. As Harry watches helplessly, Niall moves over to him, and squeezes into the large chair next to him, holding him for a long moment, finally saying, “C’mon, Li, let’s get you into bed.” He looks at Harry over Liam’s shaking shoulders and says softly, “They were telling me, when Grace was born, Li and Zayn were in the room with her. Li was between projects, and Layla was finishing school, so Liam was her primary babysitter for that year. They’ve always been close. Harry...” The indecision that Niall feels is clear on his face, and Harry takes a deep breath. 

“Take care of him, Ni. I’ll get this cleaned up.”

“Will you be okay?”

And then, Louis says from the corner where Harry had almost forgotten he was sitting, “I’ll stay with Harry, Niall. You take care of my Liam, okay?” They nod in understanding to each other, and Niall pulls Liam to his feet, ushering him into their bedroom.

“C’mon, baby,” Harry hears him say tenderly in a tone he’s never heard from Niall before, “I’ve got you, darling.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, Harry stares at his tools and then sighs. He vanishes the herb-infused water with a wave of his wand that leaves the bowl dry and shining. Another wave cleans the cutting board and knife, and with a third, this time with the proper incantation of thanks and blessing, he breaks the circle, the salt dissolving away into the air. He packs everything up, and tucks the photo into the side pocket of his working bag and stands, swaying suddenly.

Harry doesn’t even see him move but all of a sudden, Louis is right there. “Are you tired?” His voice is gentle, concerned as he looks at Harry with sad eyes, and it hits Harry that Louis has lost someone too. And yet, here he is, taking care of Harry, who has failed.

Harry nods. “I’m...I can’t believe Niall let me do the Finding for an hour. I’m going to pay for this tomorrow. And I just,” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, “I don’t understand why it didn’t work. If Zayn’s visions are true, and it seems like they are, it should have worked, Louis.”

Louis sighs. “I don’t know, Harry. I’m the last person who understands anything about how magic works.”

“I’m think I’m going to go,” Harry says, waving awkwardly towards the door.

He sees Louis take a breath as if he’s about to say something and then his face falls, and he just nods. “You’re sure you’re okay?” is what he settles on.

Harry nods, knowing he needs to get horizontal soon because he’s going to sleep, imminently, and he’d prefer to do it somewhere where he won’t bruise when he lands. Fuzzily, he waves to Louis and shuffles out the door, and is asleep within a minute of his head hitting the pillow.

**DAY 7**

When Harry wakes up, it’s to bright sunlight streaming in through the sliders, the smell of coffee, and Niall sitting on the side of his bed, wafting the scent of said coffee under his nose. Harry rolls over and stretches.

“Bit creepy, isn’t it? Sitting there watching me sleep?”

“I brought you coffee,” Niall pointed out. “You can’t be mad at me for that.”

Harry sits up, the sheets pooling around his waist. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees sleepily and makes grabby hands for the mug, which Niall passes over to him. “What’s up? How are Liam and Zayn?”

Niall looks solemn. “Liam had...a tough night,” he says slowly, and Harry’s heart falls.

“I told them,” he whispers, staring into his coffee before taking a sip, “I told them not to get their hopes up.” He turns anguished eyes to Niall, “I wish I could have Found the necklace.”

Niall stares at him and then says, “Harry, no one is upset with you. In fact, it hit Zayn at about 3:00 this morning, that this is actually a really, really good sign.”

Confused, Harry drinks more coffee, and blesses Niall under his breath when Niall hands over a plate of pastries as well. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Zayn’s theory is that the reason you can’t Find the necklace is because it’s on Grace, right?”

Harry nods, that’s his theory as well, “Yeah, and that the ex is shielding her somehow.”

“Well,” Niall says triumphantly, “you’d only be blocked if the necklace is  _ still on her, _ right? If they’d dumped it, you would have found it, and we’d have no idea where she is. So Zayn thinks is positive. I mean, yeah, it would have been great to get a location, but Harry, no one is upset that you didn’t. They all knew it was a long shot,”

Harry feels his shoulders drop in relief as he takes in Niall’s words, and he feels lighter than he has since yesterday afternoon. “So Zayn and Liam aren’t mad?” He asks, his voice small.

Niall waves his hand impatiently, sending both Harry’s and his own coffee cups sloppily to the side table, not to mention dumping the pastries on the floor as he tackles Harry in a full-body hug. “No,” he says firmly, “No one is mad. Well, Louis is a bit grumpy today, I don’t know what’s up with him, but no one is mad at you. Now c’mon, get showered and dressed. We all want food.”

They’ve decided to take advantage of the fact that most of the ship will be disembarking for the shore excursion to take over the pool. Harry thinks, not for the first time, that while much of this vacation has been  _ nothing _ like what he anticipated, spending the day in the sun with his oldest friend, his newest friends, and a pitcher of mimosas comes pretty close. 

He also spends most of the day watching Louis out of the corner of his eye. When they gather by the pool for breakfast, Harry can see what Niall means, that Louis is grumpy. He spends a bunch of the morning sitting with them, but apart, drinking coffee and eating his pancakes while he skims over things on his phone. At one point, he looks up to find Harry watching him, and it’s amazing, the transformation that the smile spreading across his face brings. 

“Feeling all right today, then, Harry?” He inquires, setting his phone down on the table, and just like that, he seems to snap out of his mood. 

The thing is, when Louis is present, he’s got a vibrancy about him that renders Harry a bit stupid, really. Louis glows like a sun, and in his presence, Harry feels like the moon, shining with his reflected light. They spend the afternoon orbiting each other, playing in the pool and getting into adolescent water fights, then lying next to each other on parallel chaise lounges, talking about nothing and everything, and it feels so right that Harry wants to cry. He also wants to reach and run a hand down the golden skin that stretches temptingly right in front of him

He feels like  _ something  _ has shifted between them, but he can’t figure out what it is until he and Niall head back to their room to get changed and Niall says, with an offhand casualness that feels studied, “So, you and Louis seemed to be getting on quite well today.”

Harry stares at him, and can feel himself flushing. “What? No. I mean, yeah, of course we were. Louis and I are buddies.”

“Really,” and Harry wonders when Niall picked up that arched eyebrow look of amusement that Harry knows he’s seen on Zayn’s face. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Calling what?” Harry asks impatiently. “Niall, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Niall says airily as he sails into the bathroom. “Just, you know,” and here he pokes his head back out the door, “I know what you look like when you’re flirting, Harry, and I haven’t seen you this fired up about a guy in a long time.” As he pulls his head back into the bathroom and turns on the shower, Harry hears him call over the sound of the running water, “It’s a good look on you, Harry. I like it.”

Harry flips him off, knowing Niall can’t see him, and sighs. They’ve only got one more night on the cruise after tonight, and Harry can’t believe it’s almost over. They’ve decided to try and follow through on the plans they’d cancelled last night — a nice dinner back at the Chef’s Table and then drinks and conversation under the stars at the Diamond Lounge. While wealth has never been a particular aspiration of Harry’s, he has to admit that it’s going to be tough to go back to living on a budget, and he’s determined to enjoy the luxury Zayn and Liam seemed determined to shower upon him while they’re still all together.

After Niall exits the bathroom, Harry makes his way into the steamy heat, and flips on the shower. He steps into the shower, and turns it down to a cooler temp. Unlike Niall, he doesn’t particularly want to boil himself. It feels fantastic to wash the sunscreen and sweat from his body, and he runs his hand down over his stomach and lets it drift down to his cock, which starts to take an interest in the proceedings as he pictures the blue of Louis’ eyes. He hears Niall call out that he’s headed next door and yells an acknowledgement that he’ll be there soon, and listens for the sound of the door closing. He’s been on edge since he saw Louis dive into the pool this morning, the sunlight turning the drops of water on his skin when he surfaced to diamonds, and Harry had wanted to inhale him.

This is new, he thinks, hand moving more quickly over his stiffening cock, this longing for the touch of another person. Harry wonders briefly if the fact that Louis has such a low power level might work in his favor, maybe he’d be harder to read. Doubtful really, he reads emotions, not power. He groans softly at the feel of his hand around his prick as he runs his thumb over the tip, tilts his head back into the water to rinse the last of the shampoo as his other hand runs across his chest, squeezing and touching as it goes.

He comes like this, right hand grasping his dick, left hand pinching his nipple, Louis’ face on his mind. He gasps as his orgasm surges through him, imagines Louis on his knees in front of him, looking up at him with a wicked grin as he mouths at Harry’s body, and cries out, unable to keep silent at the image he creates in his mind, his release spattering the marble tile of the shower. 

Gasping, he leans against the cool tile of the wall, knees suddenly weak as he catches his breath. He lets the shower run down over his body, until he’s breathing easier, and then sighs. Scrubbing off the last of his activities, he finally shuts the shower down and grabs his towel. It’s time to get ready for dinner.

Harry feels a bolt of anxiety as he reaches for the door to the others’ cabin, rapping softly on it to announce his entrance. He’s not sure why. Even though he’s only known these men for a week, they’ve been together almost constantly, and they’ve shared some intense experiences, and Harry has no doubt that it’s just the beginning of their connection. So why is he nervous? When he enters the cabin, his question is answered.

Louis.

He can see through the sliders, Louis is standing out on the balcony, laughing at something Zayn is saying, and Harry’s mouth goes dry with desire as he stares at him. Louis is lit up by the setting sun glinting golden on his hair, and his blue eyes are shining, and the affection for Zayn is so clear on his face. Harry swallows. He’s fucked. Really and truly fucked. He’s known how drawn he’s been to Louis, he’d be blind to his own emotions if he didn’t realize that, and that’s something Harry cannot afford to be. So yes, of course, he’s attracted to Louis. And he really enjoys his company as well. But now, Harry is beginning to understand how deep this well of desire and longing he’s fallen into is, and how there may be no way out for him. And he has no idea what Louis wants.

Then, Louis turns and looks into the cabin and sees Harry. The smile falls from his face, and even from where he’s standing, Harry can see the rise of Louis’ chest as he inhales. He’s staring, clearly ignoring whatever it is that Zayn is saying to him, and then he just walks away, moving towards Harry. Harry is unable to take his eyes from Louis’ face as he approaches, and he feels a little bit light headed.

Okay, so maybe it’s not just Harry feeling this, he thinks, maybe Louis is right down here with him.

Louis’ voice is breathless as he says, “Harry. Hey. You look.” He swallows, and Harry can see the movement of his throat, “You look nice.”

Harry’s gone all out tonight. He’s wearing his skin-tight white jeans, and a jade green silk shirt with an embellishment of cherry blossoms on the left side, running up the button placket, that brings out the green of his eyes. He’s done his hair, drying it carefully to let it fall in loose waves over his shoulders, and he’s lined his eyes with a soft brown that brings out the green. He’s even slicked on a subtle pink lip gloss that tastes like cherries. He tells himself it’s simply that he likes to dress up now and then, and while this is the truth, it’s not the whole truth.

Harry looks at Louis, who’s wearing slim-fitting linen slacks with a pink linen shirt that skims his curves and brings a lovely sheen to his skin, and when Louis’ eyes drop to scan Harry’s body, Harry can see the rose gold eyeshadow smoothed onto his lids, which works perfectly with the sun-touched flush of his cheeks. They stare at each other in silence for a long moment, and then both jump as Liam says loudly, “Well, this  _ is _ interesting, boys, but we’ve got a reservation, so if you don’t mind?”

Harry flushes but Louis just smiles at him and says, not breaking their connection, “Fuck off, Liam.”

They have a wonderful dinner. The chefs have outdone themselves tonight, and the food is not only delicious, but so beautifully presented on the plate that Harry is almost hesitant to eat it. Each course has been paired with its own exquisite wine, and by the time dessert rolls around, Harry is delightfully full and just the tiniest bit tipsy. Harry leans back in his chair with a groan, bemoaning his tight jeans, and smiles his thanks to the server as she sets the cappuccino down in front of him.

He adds a bit of sugar and stirs it gently as Louis says, “That was spectacular. I can’t remember the last time I had such a good meal.”

“So, boys,” Niall says, stretching out his arms so that he’s got one hand on Zayn and one on Liam, “What are we thinking? Dancing? Rock climbing? More drinking?”

“I want to dance,” Zayn says enthusiastically and Harry winces.

“I don’t think I’m up for dancing tonight,” he says finally. “I’m still a bit tired from yesterday. I might go up to the Diamond Lounge and have another drink, look at the stars. I’m going to miss this when I’m back in Cambridge.” He looks around the table and feels a pang, because the view is not the only thing he’ll be missing. “But, don’t let that stop you guys, go out, have fun, dance your asses off!”

Liam looks a bit concerned. “Are you sure, Harry? I mean, I don’t want you to feel like we’re abandoning you.”

Louis says diffidently, “Don’t worry, Li, I’ll keep Harry company. I could do with a quiet night myself. That is,” and here he meets Harry’s eyes, his own gleaming in the candlelight, and Harry thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful man in his life, “if Harry’s okay with that.”

Harry takes a gulp of coffee and says, his voice hoarse, “Um, yes. That’s cool.”

So as Zayn, Liam and Niall disappear, with knowing glances cast over their shoulders, into the dance club, Harry and Louis make their way up to the Diamond Lounge. They’re quiet and the space between them, both physical and emotional, is palpable to Harry as they stand quietly in the elevator. Harry glances at Louis and sees him glancing back, and his heart starts to pound. This feels like the beginning of something.

They make their way to the bar, order cocktails, and then move together towards their usual spot, leaning on the railing looking out over the vast ocean, the lights of Antigua long gone behind them now. The moon is waning but still casts enough light that Harry can see the freckles on Louis’ cheek that remind him of the Summer Triangle.

There’s silence between them for a long moment, and then Louis speaks.

“I can’t quite believe we’re almost home. It’s going to be…” His voice trails off for a time and then he shakes his head, continues. “It’s going to be weird to get back to my real life.”

Harry nods, he can feel Louis’ gaze heavy on his skin as Louis turns his head to look at him. “I know,” he says finally, “A lot of things are going to change when we get back.”

Louis shifts his whole body so that he’s facing Harry. “How do you feel about that?” He asks, his tone even, undemanding.

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know, really. I mean, nothing about this vacation has gone the way I thought it would, so maybe I should just stop trying to predict. I obviously don’t have the gift.” He laughs ruefully. “All I know is...it’s going to be really different not having Niall so close.”

“What else?” Louis asks, and his tone is curious. “What else did you think would be different on this trip.”

Harry laughs. “Well, I didn’t expect to get pulled into a new family of soulbonds. I didn’t expect that one of the cases that haunts me would come back into my life, that’s never happened before. I guess I thought there’d be more drinking and maybe even, you know, some casual sex.”

“Oh?” Here Louis’ tone is something else entirely. “Really? Is that something you’re into?”

Harry barks out a harsh laugh. “No. Not typically at all. But I was just thinking maybe I could give it a try. Historically, it’s not usually an option when you’re...like I am.”

Louis frowns. “Like you are? What, hot? Single? Gay? Somehow I don’t see any of those things getting in the way of you getting laid, Harold.” He’s teasing, but there’s a weight to his tone and a thrill goes through Harry at his words. Louis thinks he’s hot.  _ Louis thinks he’s hot. _

“Empath, Lou,” he reminds him, “ _ Haptic empath. _ It’s not always bad, but you know, sometimes you read more than you want to. They call it a gift, but I’m really not so sure about that. I mean, it’s worse for the telepaths,” He shudders in sympathy, “Can you imagine? Being able to read your lover’s  _ thoughts _ while you're fucking? Ugh.”

Louis makes a face in sympathy. “Is it really that unpleasant? I mean, it seems like it would be amazing, to be able to feel what your partner is feeling.”

Harry shrugs. “It can be great, when they’re into it, but I’ve found my gift is generally a turn-off. Like people get so anxious about what I might be Reading from them, it gets in the way. So often, I don’t even get to that point. I usually can’t have sex, at least, not good sex, with someone when it’s not  _ personal, _ you know? I tried, and it just, it doesn’t work for me. I need to feel that they want to be with me, and when it’s just sex…” His voice trails off. “And so often, I’ve found people aren’t that comfortable with having a lover or a boyfriend who can read them. It turns out some secrets are necessary in love, I guess.”

“So, you’re, what, waiting for your soulmate?” There’s no judgement in Louis’ tone but Harry bristles a bit nonetheless.

“No,” he laughs off the idea harshly. “Not at all, I don’t think I’m going to be as lucky as Niall. I just, I don’t know, this might sound weird but sex was never that big a deal to me, because I was never alone in my head when I was with someone.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, “I’d love to be with someone, to feel like they really wanted me for  _ me, _ to know they’re not freaked out by my being an empath. I think that would be amazing, but I haven’t met that guy, Louis. Not yet.”

And then, in the silence following Harry’s impassioned words, Louis looks him in the eye and says clearly, “Yes, you have.”

Harry thinks his heart may have just stopped dead in his chest and his tongue feels three sizes too big. “What?” He stutters out the words. “What are you saying?”

“You heard me.” Louis toys with his drink for a moment, takes a long sip. “Harry, you can’t have missed it. I think you’re,” his voice goes husky, “Well, I think you’re pretty amazing. You’re a good person, you’re kind and funny, and sexy as shit, and you don’t seem bothered by my magical rating.” He shrugs, looking down at the deck for a moment, “I even thought maybe that would be a bonus, like, maybe you won’t be able to Read me much because there’s not much to Read.”

Harry frowns, “Louis, I Read emotion, not power.” He doesn’t mention that he’d had the same thought.

“Either way,” Louis shrugs. “I don’t care. Maybe if you Read me, you’ll believe me.”

“Believe what?” Harry whispers, his heart having decided to come back from the dead to race him to the finish line.

Louis looks at him, eyes shining in the moonlight, and if Harry had thought him beautiful before, it’s nothing to how he looks now, the expression on his face taking Harry’s breath away. It’s too early for love, but Harry can feel himself slipping a little bit closer with every passing moment, helpless now to do anything but fall. 

“Believe that I want you. That I care about you, and that I want you for  _ you, _ not just because I want a generic someone. Touch me, Harry, put your hands on me.  _ Read _ me. I want you to.”

And suddenly, Harry knows, he can’t do anything else. He sets his drink down on the railing and, taking a deep breath, he lifts his hands to Louis’ face and cups his cheeks. From what Louis’ been saying, Harry is expecting a rush of lust, or affection, possibly muffled, but what he gets is…

Silence.

There’s a split second of quiet where normally he’d already be Reading the other person, and then, suddenly, there’s a flash of light so bright it illuminates the entire night sky. Harry hears shouts of alarm from inside the lounge as a feeling, indescribable and incandescent burns through him as he stares at Louis. The light starts to fade, now shimmering across the sky in deep blues and greens, and Harry is overwhelmed, and more than a little confused.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks, knowing what it means even as he says the words, heart pounding. ”That light, what is that, what does it mean?”

Louis brings his hands up to where Harry’s are still cupping his face, and holds on, pulling Harry’s hands down to grasp them in front of his heart, and of course, Harry knows, even as Louis whispers the words.

“We’re soulmates, Harry,” and Harry bursts into tears.

He wraps himself around Louis, who holds him tight, and in the distance, Harry can hear someone, presumably a crew member, saying “Give them some space, everyone, c’mon, let’s go back inside,” and when he looks up, a divider has been pulled across the large entry back into the bar so that they’re alone on the deck, with the illusion of privacy.

Harry stares at Louis. “Did you,” he chokes out, “Did you know? Did Zayn See this?”

Louis is shaking his head as he stands on tiptoe to press his forehead to Harry’s, “No,  _ no,” _ he whispers, “I didn’t know. I…” He pulls back to give Harry a tremulous smile, “I’d let myself hope, maybe. But I didn’t know.”

Harry looks at him, drinking in the sight of Louis,  _ fuck, _ his soulmate, in the moonlight, the colors they’ve created when they touched still dancing across the night sky, reveling in how it feels to touch someone and not know immediately how they’re feeling. The air feels electric, heavy with mystery as they stand, pressed together in the dark, and all of a sudden, it feels inevitable, this moment, like they’ve been crashing towards each other from the moment they met, and how is it possible he’s only known Louis a week? 

“Louis” he whispers, and again, “Oh, Louis,” and then he presses his mouth to Louis’ like he’s been longing to do since the first time he saw him, and Harry is lost.

A kiss has never felt like this before — he’s never been able to simply  _ just be _ with someone in a first kiss without the distraction of the other person’s emotions clouding his mind, confusing his senses. But now, his very first kiss with Louis. He’s kissing Louis because he can’t  _ not _ kiss him, and in this moment, all he feels is the longing of his own heart, nothing else, no distractions or interference, just his mouth on Louis’. It’s a soft kiss of  _ hello, _ and  _ I can’t believe I’ve found you,  _ and  _ oh there you are, right in front of me, _ and it’s the most amazing moment of Harry’s life.

After a long moment, they both ease back, and Harry is laughing and still crying a bit at all of it, overwhelmed. He smiles at Louis, reaches up to touch his face, marveling at how it feels, the soft skin of Louis’ cheek under his fingers, and how he can’t Read Louis at all. It feels incredible, like a new kind of magic.

They make their way back into the Diamond Lounge, and Harry can’t help but notice the stares and the undercurrent of conversation as they enter. As they move towards the exit, a staffer comes up to them and says softly, “May I have a moment of your time, gentlemen?”

They stare at her, and then Louis nods, and they follow her back to a small office, where they all sit.

She clears her throat. “My name is Sara, and I’m one of the customer liaisons here, and I just wanted to say, first of all, congratulations.” Her smile is warm as her eyes rest on their joined hands for a moment, and Harry smiles back.

“Thank you, we’re a little…” His voice trails off, he thinks maybe there are no words to describe what he and Louis are feeling, and Louis squeezes his hand, sending a thrill down his spine.

“We’re pretty overwhelmed,” Louis says, and Harry nods. Okay, that’s a good start.

Sara’s professional face softens a bit and her smile deepens. “I can only imagine. I mean, it’s not actually as uncommon as you’d think, so I’ve seen a few of these moments, though I’ve never seen anything like that kind of light display.” She shakes her head. “You two are going to want to get your levels reassessed. Give it a couple of days, it can take a bit of time for the bond to settle, but wow. That was amazing.”

Harry frowns, a bit lost. “What do you mean, get our levels reassessed?” He hears Louis next to him give a gasp of shock and turns to him. “What does she mean?”

Louis says slowly, “Well, in some cases, the forging of the soulmate bond can increase your power levels. It happened for Liam. Zayn was already a B1, but Liam was a solid C2.

He turns to Sara. “I’d forgotten about that. My best friend, when he soulbonded, he bounced up, he’s a B1 now,” and Sara’s eyes widen. Louis looks back at Harry. “In fact, given that they’ve bonded with Niall, he should get assessed as well. And yeah. You should too.”

Harry looks at him, really looks and guesses what Louis isn’t saying. “We both should,” is all he says, and Louis squeezes his hand.

Sara says, “I won’t keep you, I know it’s late. I wanted to say congratulations and to let you know that any resources of the ship are available to you in this exciting time. I also wanted to make sure you knew that Jesy Nelson, our lead healer, has additional training in newly bonded soulmate care, and if you’re not too busy tomorrow, she’d be happy to meet with you both. Though,” and here she nods at Louis, “If you’ve witnessed close hand another soulmate bonding, you may have some idea of what to expect.”

“No,” says Louis slowly, “No, we should meet with her. It’s not the same thing at all, seeing it happen and experiencing it yourself,” and here he turns to look at Harry with such hope and happiness, it takes Harry’s breath away. They stare at each for a length of time that exceeds the bounds of polite dominant cultural norms, and finally, Sara snickers.

“Well,” she says, standing, “I’ll let you two...get on with your evening. Again, congratulations on your new soulmate bond, and please consider us for your honeymoon.” She smiles happily as Harry’s eyes widen.

They make their way back out to the corridor which is fairly empty, and Harry is shocked to see that it’s almost midnight. They head into the elevator in silence, and Harry starts to feel almost awkward. 

As Louis hits the button for Deck 10, another couple dashes in, chattering excitedly.

“I can’t believe that, can you?” The woman says excitedly. “A soulmate pairing,  _ right there.” _ She sighs, “Wow, it’s so romantic.”

The other woman shrugs, and says, “You think everything’s romantic, Lila, c’mon.”

The first woman wraps her arms around the other and, gives Harry a quick grin and a wink, before she kisses her girlfriend thoroughly, and pulls back to say, “That’s because everything  _ is _ romantic, if you’re doing it right, Mayumi. Right?” She appeals to Harry and Louis, who are standing with a couple of feet of space between them. Force of habit, Harry thinks, a habit they no longer need and a thrill runs through him as he moves closer to Louis.

“Yeah, I’d have to say that’s probably true for most things,” he agrees. 

The woman, Lila, Harry remembers her partner calling her, smiles even more widely. “Did you two see that?” She gushes, “Apparently a couple of guys soulmate bonded out on the deck. Blessed Morgana, the lights,” She shakes her head, “That’s incredible. Can you believe it?”

Louis gives a soft laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I can believe it,” is all he says and the elevator stops at their floor.

As they walk down the hallway, Harry gets more and more nervous. He knows what he wants, but he can’t read Louis at all, so there’s only one way to figure out what’s on his mind.

He stops about twenty feet from their respective doorways and, reminding himself that he’s allowed to touch now, reaches out to catch Louis’ wrist in his hand.

“So, um, what do you want to do now?”

Louis says, “I want to take a shower, get into something more comfortable, and get into bed.” 

“Oh,” Harry says, fighting to keep the disappointment out of his voice, “Yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

“Harry,” Louis rolls his eyes affectionately, “I want to do that with you.”

Harry feels a bit foolish, because of course, they’re going to need to be together for a while, to help the bond settle in. He slides his fingers down to link with Louis’. “Do you think the others are back?”

Louis shrugs, “Dunno, do you want to go to your room or mine?” 

Harry grins, there’s no contest there, “Yours, the bed is more comfortable.”

Louis flushes and Harry realizes what he’s said and his heart rate starts to pick up. 

“Oh, I’ll just, um…” Harry takes a deep breath. “I’ll go to my cabin and get my stuff, I can meet you in yours?”

Louis smiles, and says “I’ll leave the door unlocked.” 

He moves away as if to enter his own cabin and then stops, turns back and walks determinedly over to Harry, and before Harry can ask what Louis is doing, he’s being pressed up against the door to his own cabin and kissed. Where the kiss on the deck had been soft and gentle, this kiss is anything but. This kiss is blazing hot from the moment their lips touch, and Harry swears he can see sparks between them until he closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of Louis’ mouth working on his, Louis’ body pressing against him, the heat of him setting Harry’s skin afire. Louis presses closer, his body lining up perfectly against Harry’s, and Harry is stunned to realize they’re both already halfway to hard. As Louis moves from his mouth to his neck, Harry’s head tilts back against the door and he full-on moans at the press of Louis’ hips against his.

Gasping he says, “I thought,  _ fuck, _ Louis, I thought we were going to just, you know...shit, shit, shit,” He can’t collect his thoughts, can’t help himself, and his hips jerk back against Louis’ where he can feel the long, hard line of his cock, through the thin layers of fabric that separate them. “Fuck, thought we were going to get some sleep, aren’t you tired?”

Louis pauses long enough to murmur, “Nope. I’m not tired. Got a second wind,” and does something with his tongue that has Harry crying out and the odds are astonishingly high that he’s about to come in his trousers in the hallway like a sixteen-year old.

“Lou, Louis,” Harry pants, “Can we,” his eyes roll back in his head at a particularly vigorous thrust from Louis, “Let’s go,” he waves awkwardly behind him, intending to grab his wand to unlock the door when the entire thing just...explodes backwards into the room behind him. He and Louis stumble heavily, overbalance and go sprawling onto the floor, which brings Harry back from the brink in a most unsatisfying manner.

There’s a moment of silence as Louis and Harry stare at each other in astonishment, and then there are doors opening up and down the corridor, and heads are sticking out to find the source of the sound, and suddenly Niall is standing over the two of them, where Harry is still flat on his back with Louis resting heavily on top of him.

Niall avidly takes in their flushed and tousled appearance, not to mention Louis’ position on top of Harry, and the shards of the door under and around them, and a grin crosses his face that he doesn’t even try to hide. “Well, well, well,” he says finally, folding his arms. “What have we here? This looks like a story I want to hear.”

Louis rolls off Harry with a groan and winces at the press of splintered wood against his back. He looks like Harry feels, baffled as to how this has happened, how things have changed so quickly. As Niall reaches down and pulls Harry to his feet, Harry think mournfully of the sex he was about to have, and notes absently that his erection has, thankfully, subsided a bit in his skin-tight, white jeans, because that would be embarrassing. Without thinking about it, he reaches down and gives Louis a hand up, marveling a bit at the silence in his mind as Louis’ slender fingers wrap around his larger hand. He doesn’t realize what he’s done until he hears an actual gasp from Niall who is staring at their clasped hands with something like awe.

“Harry,” Niall whispers, “What is going on?”

Louis does not let go of Harry’s hand, threading his fingers through Harry’s. Their eyes meet and they share a small, secret smile, and Harry sighs. 

He runs the hand that’s not holding Louis’ through his hair, and says, “Are Zayn and Liam up?”

“We are now,” Zayn says dryly, leaning the in the doorway of his own cabin. “You guys want to come in for a moment?” His eyes drop to their clasped hands, and then sweep back up and he’s raising one eyebrow in a silent question as he looks at Louis. 

Louis just smiles and says, “Get Li, Z, would you? We can tell you all at together.”

Harry pauses, looking at the wreckage of his door. “What should I do about this?”

Niall comes out from the room where he’d disappeared for a moment and says, “I just called maintenance, they’re sending up a repair team now, they’ll get it sorted out. They’ll knock on our door when they’re done.”

Zayn stands back as Harry follows Louis into his cabin, and they get settled on the couch. Liam is curled up in one of the arm chairs, wearing a t-shirt that’s both inside out and backwards, and soft cotton pants and Harry flushes a bit, wondering if he’s not the only one that’s been cockblocked by his accidental magic, for it can have been nothing else, but his magic running wild. 

They all settle in, and Harry kicks off his sandals under the table as he sits down onto the couch. As Zayn slides into the other armchair, Niall drops to the ground in front of him. Harry notes how Zayn’s hand automatically reaches out to curl around Niall’s shoulder and for the first time since Niall’s bonding with his soulmates, Harry doesn’t feel quite so left behind. He turns his head to find Louis looking at him, that same small smile playing around his lips, and Harry smiles back.

Then, he turns to meet Niall’s gaze, feeling suddenly awkward. “Well,” he coughs, clears his throat, “Um.” Helplessly, without thinking, he turns to Louis, who takes over.

“What Harry’s trying to say is, he and I realized that we’re,” here Louis flushes as well, and Harry wonders why it’s so hard to say the words. “We’re soulmates,” Louis says finally, only stuttering on the word a little bit. 

Liam sits up with a shout. “No fucking way, was that you guys? The,” here he waves his hands excitedly, albeit inarticulately, “That huge flash, the colors, it looks like the Northern Lights, that was gorgeous, but we were all so confused, had no idea what was happening. We were, err...sitting out on the deck and suddenly the whole night just lit up.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, the moment etched in his memory, “That was us.” His hand links with Louis’ again, who runs his thumb over Harry’s palm in a swift movement that sends a shiver down his back and straight to his dick. Even though it’s late, he feels the magic running through his veins like an electric current, and he doesn’t think he’ll be sleeping any time soon. 

He looks at Niall. He’s not sure that he’s ever seen Niall with a grin this wide, and his friend’s honest blue eyes are brimming with tears. Then Niall is leaping to his feet and scrambling over the coffee table to hurl himself onto Louis and Harry, and he’s outright sobbing as he holds them both and Harry catches a few words through his sobs, “...fucking...so worried...so happy for you...glorious bastards…” Harry can feel the mix of joy and overpowering relief pouring off of Niall as he cries, and wonders how he’d missed Niall’s concern for him.

Niall finally calms a bit and sits up, turning around to squeeze himself in between Harry and Louis, slinging an arm around each of them, yanking them in close so that Harry’s head knocks against Louis’s and they both yelp. Niall’s grip loosens marginally until Harry pokes him in the side, and he lets go enough so that they can sit back up, both rubbing their foreheads. Niall takes a deep breath and Harry isn’t sure if he’s feeling his own affection or Niall’s being transmitted to him, and with a shock, he realizes that he’s getting used to the way Niall feels different to him now, now that he’s found his own soulmates. It doesn’t hurt quite so much now.

Zayn and Liam are sitting in their respective chairs, watching the goings-on with identical smiles of affection. 

Niall takes another deep breath and sits back, relaxing a bit. “So, Louis finally actually touched you, and you guys lit up the sky, huh?” He asks.

Harry laughs a bit, remembering again that moment, the flash of light simultaneous with the realization of what this all meant. “Yeah. I mean, we were talking about...stuff, and then.” He shrugs, wanting to hold the specifics of the moment private. 

“So, what the fuck happened to your door?” Liam asks bluntly and Harry shakes his head in confusion. 

“I have no fucking clue,” he says honestly, sure that the bafflement he feels is clear in his voice. “We were, um.” Harry feels himself flushing a bit, “Just, you know…”

“We can guess,” Liam mutters and Harry hears Niall snicker.

_ “Yeah _ we can.”

“ _ Anyway,” _ Harry continues, “I was thinking about getting the door open to get into the room, and was reaching back to get my wand and then the door just sort of...exploded.”

“And you both fell over,” Niall adds helpfully. “Don’t forget that part.” 

Harry glares at him, cheeks flaming, while Niall snickers again, and they’re interrupted by a knock, which Zayn answers. He ushers a person in the cruise line uniform into the room and says to him, indicating Harry, “He’s the person in that room, thanks.”

Harry extricates himself from Niall and stands as the worker says, “Um, we’re not going to be able to replace the door tonight, sir. The damage was, err, catastrophic, so we’re just going to have to replace it entirely. We’ve put up a privacy shield charm, which we can key to your wand if you’d like to come with me.”

Harry follows him out into the hall and says, “I’m really sorry, I don’t really know what happened.”

The woman smiles and says, “Oh, don’t worry about it, sir. I’ve seen all sorts of things happen, especially when two people have just found their soulmate bond partner. You’ll need to get your levels reassessed, though,, because given the amount of damage you did to that door, I’m thinking you’ve jumped a bit in power, and you may need more training to stabilize your control.”

With a jolt, Harry remembers the other cruise line employee saying the same thing and frowns. “Is that really a thing?” He hands over his wand and the woman inserts it into a glowing mark on the charm she’s set up around the doorway. 

She finishes tuning the spell to his wand and hands it back over. “Oh yeah, sure,” she says. “I mean, most people don’t change more than a level or two, but sometimes, yeah. It depends a bit on the levels of both partners. It’s not, you know, an exact science.” She smiles at him, and it occurs to Harry to wonder why she is aware that he’s just realized his soulmate bond.

“How did you know?” He asks curiously, wondering if some sort of intra-ship memo has gone out.

“Oh, that’s my gift,” she says nonchalantly, packing up her tools, “When people have who have a soulbond of whatever sort are close to each other, I can see it, like a web of light in the air, connecting people. Those connections in the room back there? Almost blinded me. You all are a strong group.”

Harry’s eyes widen, because this is a rare and powerful gift. Without thinking he asks, “Wait, if that’s your gift, why do you work in maintenance on a cruiseship?”

She slings her bag over her shoulder and smiles. “Because my soulmates work on-board, and I don’t want to be without them. And, in any case,” she starts to walk down the hallway and then turns and throws him a smile, “I’m good with my hands. I like this work and I can do it anywhere. The other, it’s cool, but it’s not what I want to do with my life, go around confirming people are soulmates, or…” her face darkens for a moment and Harry wonders what she’s thinking about, “You know, not. I just want to live my life. Have a good night, sir.” 

Harry murmurs his goodnight and makes his way back into the other cabin. 

“Things all set?” Liam asks. Harry drops onto the couch, this time situating himself between Louis and Niall, as he’s got a visceral longing to feel Louis’ skin under his fingertips. He leans his head back against the couch, suddenly exhausted. His head is too full of thoughts though, and again, he thinks, he may not sleep much tonight. 

“Yeah, she set up a privacy charm, and they’ll replace the door tomorrow. Apparently I pulverized it.”

Niall yawns, and sighs. “Okay, guys. I need to go to bed, it’s late. I know we’ve got so much to talk about tomorrow, but I can’t think anymore tonight.” 

He stands, gives Louis a hug, and then wraps his arms around Harry one last time, and Harry can feel Niall’s sleepy happiness. “Love you, brother,” Harry murmurs and Niall gives him a smacking kiss on the cheek and then heads into the bedroom he’s been sharing with Liam and Zayn, who say their goodnights as well, and follow him in. 

Harry can’t hear a sound from their bedroom after the door is shut and is confused until Louis says, “Powerful, permanent silencing charms, thank Gandalf.”

Harry stares at him. Now that they’re here, alone, he wonders what’s going to happen. He is bone-tired and revved up, all at the same time, and he can’t quite pull his thoughts together. Then Louis walks over to where Harry is now standing by the couch, and without saying a word, reaches up to cup his face and pull him down into a blistering kiss. 

Harry feels frantic. His heart is racing just standing still, and it’s like he’s going up in flames. No kiss in his life has ever,  _ ever _ felt like this. He loses track of how long they stand there, kissing frantically in the dim light of the living room. Harry holds onto Louis as if he’s the only thing tethering to him to the surface of the planet, because that’s how he feels, like the iridescent sensation bubbling just under the surface of his skin might just lift him straight out of the atmosphere if he doesn’t cling tight. He feels Louis’ hand skate down his back and skim over the curves of his ass and, he can’t help himself, he moans at the gentle touch.

Louis breaks away to whisper, “Is this okay?” Harry wonders what he’s feeling, and for the first time he wishes he could Read Louis, but then their eyes meet, and he realizes, he doesn’t need to, because everything Louis is feeling is right there, written on his face.

Time seems to slow down as they look at each other, and even though the light is low, Harry can see every detail of Louis’ face: the sharp line of his jaw, the rise of his cheekbones, the way his eyelashes sweep his cheeks as he looks down for a moment and then back up, the blue of his eyes. Harry remembers the flashes of blue in the sky when they’d touched for the first time, the exact blue that is looking steadily at him now. Waiting for him, he realizes, to decide. 

Harry knows he could take it slow, knows he could say that he just wants to go to sleep, and that Louis would say yes. Not because he would just be giving in to what Harry wants, but because they’re in this together, and they’re on the same page. Louis is, Harry realizes, on board with whatever he decides, because, and here Harry takes in a shaky breath because it’s a lot to comprehend, they have a whole lifetime now, to get to know each other. A whole life to come to understand the other person, to learn what makes them gasp and moan in the dark. A whole lifetime to live together, loving each other because, Harry realizes, if he doesn’t love Louis yet, he’s close enough to that point that he’s not sure he can tell the difference any more. He wants to show Louis how he feels, and he wants to learn, as well. Learn what it’s like to be wholly contained within himself when he gives himself to another.

And he wants to learn that right now.

He doesn’t say a word, but something in his face must shift, because Louis’ eyes widen and then a grin crosses his face. “Yeah?” He breathes, moving back in.

“Yeah,” Harry whispers just as Louis captures his mouth once more in a kiss that lights him up from the inside out. After another long moment that leaves Harry panting and breathless, Louis takes a step back and tugs on Harry’s hand.

“C’mon,” he says quietly, “Come into the bedroom with me.”

Harry follows him as they move into Louis’ room. He doesn’t flip on the light, just opens the shutters and Harry realizes the light they’d created is still flickering across the sky, dancing across the crisp white duvet in shimmer shades of green and blue as it shines in through the window. They face each other across the bed and Harry’s throat goes dry as he looks at Louis, longing surging in his veins.

“What do you want?” Louis asks, his voice low.

Harry swallows. “I want you,” he says finally. “I want us, together. I want to be with you, right here, right now, just you and me. Can we do that?”

Louis nods, and then, he moves. “We can do that,” he says, in a low, dark voice, as he moves around the bed, unbuttoning and pulling off his shirt as he goes. “We can,” and here he reaches Harry, pulls him into his arms, “do that, right now,” and then they’re kissing. 

Harry feels Louis unbuttoning his shirt, sliding his hands over Harry’s bare chest as their mouths move, and he slips his own hands up Louis’ back, reveling in the sensation of muscles moving under skin as he touches. Louis is warm, his skin soft and firm under Harry’s hands. They kiss and kiss, until Harry can’t breathe and then Louis begins working his way down Harry’s neck, sending sparks through his body. They’re pressed close, skin to skin, and Harry can feel the firm weight of Louis’ body all the way down his own. He can feel that Louis is getting excited, knows Louis can feel him too, hard in his ridiculously tight jeans. 

He feels Louis’ teeth nip against his neck and almost without his conscious thought, his head tips back and he moans, long and low as Louis’ hands slide down to curve around his ass, yanking him even closer so their hips are flush against each other. The friction created by Louis’ body rubbing against his clothed cock feels almost like an electric shock and Harry moans again.

“Fuck,” he hears Louis whisper, “Holy Gandalf, Harry.” He crashes their mouths together, and Harry inhales on a gasp, the sensation of Louis’ tongue against him getting him even harder, and his hips move restlessly against Louis’, seeking more friction, more pressure, more  _ anything. _

“Louis,” Harry moans, “Louis, please.” He doesn’t know what he needs, his head is spinning and he’s overwhelmed with the sensations he’s feeling. It almost feels like the first time he’d had another man’s hands on him, mouth on him, and in a way, it  _ is _ the first time. It’s the first time like this, where he gets to be just Harry, alone within himself with everything that Louis is making him feel, and it’s incredible. 

Louis shifts the shirt off of Harry’s shoulders and tosses it aside, and then Harry feels his hands working on Harry’s belt, feels Louis tug his jeans down. He wriggles out of them as Louis guides him towards the bed, pushes him gently down. He drops onto his back, resting his head on the pillows as Louis makes quick work of his own shoes and trousers, and crawls up the bed to prop himself up on one arm, lying next to Harry. 

He reaches out one hand to skim it down Harry’s body, and Harry can’t help himself, he arches up into the light touch, seeking more. 

“What do you want?” Louis asks, and his voice is breathless, clearly as affected by this as Harry is. “Please, Harry, just tell me what you want.”

“Fuck, I want you,” Harry groans, grabbing Louis’ hand and boldly shoving it down to where he wants it. “Shit, shit,  _ shit.” _ He gasps as Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s achingly hard cock and gives him a firm stroke through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Harry reaches up and yanks Louis down to him to kiss him frantically even as he’s thrusting up against the press of Louis’ hand, and then Louis is rolling on top of him, settling between his thighs and bracing himself as he leans down to kiss Harry, and there it is, the perfect mix of friction and pressure on Harry and he feels his eyes roll back in his head as he moves, feeling that white hot heat building in his groin.

Louis is not much better off, his eyes are closed as he rocks against Harry, kissing him again and again, and now, it’s inevitable, Harry realizes, he’s going to come in his underpants like a sixteen year old, not that sixteen year old Harry got a lot of action. 

“Louis,” he gasps, pressing his mouth to Louis’ shoulder, “Oh Merlin, Louis, I’m gonna,” he drags in a shuddering breath and feels tears prickling in his eyes as he rockets towards his climax, “Louis, I’m  _ coming,” _ he cries helplessly, and it’s game over. Harry feels his orgasm shoot through him, and cries out, helpless against the sensations exploding through his body as he curls up, almost folding in half from the force of it, clinging to Louis as he comes. Dimly he registers that Louis is shouting his name as he comes too, seemingly tipped over the edge into his own release by Harry. Harry sees now through the porthole that the sky is lit up with another flare of light, this one shot through with silver and gold, deep pinks and purples and blues, like fireworks, and Louis gives a shudder and moans, long and low.

Louis collapses onto Harry’s body with a gasp, heedless of the mess between them, and languidly turns his head to look out the window. “Will you look at that,” he comments, his voice hoarse, “That’s incredible.”

“We made that,” Harry whispers, mesmerized by the display that is only now starting to fade. “That’s us.”


	5. Day 8 & Epilogue

**DAY 8**

The sun shining in through the porthole window is the first thing Harry sees when he opens his eyes the next day, and he yawns and stretches, rolling over to come to rest up against Louis’ body. He wraps his arm around Louis and snuggles close, not realizing that his morning erection is bumping up against Louis’ amazing ass until Louis wiggles back, pressing hard against him, and Harry hisses on an inhale. He feels Louis grab his hand and pull it down to his urgently erect cock, and wraps his fingers around the eager flesh. 

“Fuck,” Louis whispers as he starts rocking into Harry’s fist, “That feels amazing, Harry.”

Harry mumbles a nonsensical response and tightens his grasp, running his thumb over the spongy flesh of the tip and then, something occurs to him and he stills his hand.

Louis lets out a heartfelt groan. “What the fuck,” he says even as Harry shifts and pulls Louis onto his back, sliding down his body.

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry whispers, watching the way the morning sun dances across Louis’ tanned stomach, “Want to get you in my mouth.” He knows he’s staring hungrily at Louis’s cock, but can’t help himself. He licks his lips, because it looks... _ delicious. _ “Is that okay with you?” He adds politely because, well, it’s always nice to ask.

Louis staring down at him, looking amazed. “Yeah, yes,” he mutters, threading his fingers through Harry’s hair as Harry hovers over him. He clears his throat and Harry feels a wicked grin split his face at Louis’ dazed expression. “Yeah, you can do that.” Louis drops back onto the pillow and Harry goes to work.

He licks a long stripe up the hot, hard length, savoring the taste of his man. His man. Louis is  _ his _ now, and he is  _ Louis’, _ and they belong to each other, and fuck if that thought doesn’t get him even harder. He moans as he sucks as much of Louis into his mouth as he can take. Louis groans in response, his hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation and Harry presses a hand to him and pushes him down. “Stay,” he says firmly, his voice already wrecked and Louis shudders.

Harry loses himself in what he’s doing, loving the taste, the feel of Louis’ skin under his tongue, the scent and sounds he’s pulling from him as he sucks. It’s intense, overwhelming, and he thinks once more of how much of his own life’s experiences he’s missed while he’s been flooded by someone else’s feelings. 

Louis is also clearly lost in the moment as he writhes under Harry’s attentions, trying to stay still, and not always succeeding. Harry watches the way the muscles in Louis’ abs contract and shift and then Louis is gasping, “Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna...you’re making me come,” and Harry wants to  _ see, _ so he pulls off and jerks Louis through his orgasm, as Louis arches up and comes, hard, his mouth stretched wide until he gasps and collapses, panting on the bed, still shuddering with aftershocks.

Harry lets go and scrambles halfway up the bed until he’s kneeling beside Louis, frantically grabbing at his own cock, until, moments later, he’s crying out and coming hard, spattering his release across the mess on Louis’ abs, and then he drops down next to Louis, the only sound in the room, their frantic breathing.

Finally, Louis takes one last, long inhale and turns to smile at Harry, “Well,” he says, “Good morning to you too,” and Harry throws his head back and laughs and laughs.

They finally make their way to the shower, and Harry sighs as he tilts his head back into the hot water, groaning as Louis soaps up a shower pouf with something spicy and earthy that Harry sniffs appreciatively. He groans happily as Louis scrubs his back, and then eagerly returns the favor. 

They exit the shower and then Louis breaks the comfortable silence between them.

“So,” he says, sounding almost tentative, and Harry turns to look at him. “I think, we’ve got a lot talk about, yeah?”

Harry nods, wrapping the fluffy white towel Louis hands him around his waist. “Yeah. I mean, at the very least, we’re gonna have to figure out the next step, you know? Maybe we need to talk to Jesy? I don’t know anyone who’s soulmate bonded while I knew them, don’t really know many soulmates at all, so…” his voice trails off for a moment as he thinks. “I guess I don’t really know what to expect, you know?”

They head back into the bedroom, and Louis pulls out a tank top and some basketball shorts for Harry to wear, and throws on something similar for himself. When they head out into the living room, Zayn, Niall and Liam are sitting on the couch, looking very smug, the three of them, and Harry blushes at the knowing looks they’re all wearing.

“Well,” Liam says cheerfully, “Good morning, boys.”

“Yeah,” Niall chimes in, “A very good morning indeed, I think.” He eyes them both. “There’s breakfast out on the balcony, if you’ve….worked up an appetite.”

Harry rolls his eyes and flips them off, and heads out, eyeing the spread appreciatively, because, yes Niall, he has, in fact, worked up an appetite. They fill their plates as the others make their way out into the late morning sunshine, and for a long moment, there’s silence as they eat. Harry refills his coffee and leans back in his chair.

“I can’t believe it’s the last day,” he says finally, looking affectionately at the other men, who’ve somehow, in the time they’ve spent together, become almost like family to him. The others murmur their assent and Louis seems unable to help himself as he reaches out to squeeze Harry’s hand.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and Harry watches him look around the table. “It’s been an eventful vacation, for sure,” and everyone laughs.

“So,” Niall says, “how are we going to spend our last day?”

Harry pauses, thinking about it. He knows that he and Louis have a lot of talking to do, to figure out what their next steps are. He assumes that Niall has already been having similar conversations with Zayn and Liam, and figures the five of them will have to discuss all this together. 

“Well, I think Louis and I are going to go meet with Jesy, talk about the bonding process, that sort of thing,” he says slowly. “Maybe we could meet up this afternoon? I’d love one more day of lounging around by the pool, you know?”

“Vacation-sized margaritas,” Niall whispers reverently, and then grins, “Sounds good to me.” The others murmur in assent as well, and Harry sighs, a bit relieved that he doesn’t have to think quite yet about all the changes that are going to be happening in his life. 

After breakfast, he and Louis head down to Deck 2 to see Jesy. She welcomes them in, and ushers them into her office. “So,” she presses her hands together in front of her and smiles. “You two have had an exciting time, haven’t you?”

Harry grins as Louis grabs his hand. He’s not sure he’s ever going to stop appreciating that he can have this with someone, it’s like he’s been touch-starved his whole life, and now he’s being offered a feast. He rubs his thumb over Louis’ wrist, feeling his pulse leap under his touch. 

“Yeah, definitely. We met Sara last night and she said you had, err, advanced training in all this? That you could maybe help us to know what to expect?

Jesy nods. “Well, it might be a bit different from the usual progression, because of Harry’s being an empath, but yeah. I think the biggest thing for you two to be aware of is that this an adjustment, a huge one, for both of you. It’s not that being soulmate bonded is bad, just the opposite, but it  _ is _ a change, a huge change. And all change, even really wonderful change, is hard.”

Harry nods, that makes sense to him. “So, what should we be on the lookout for?”

Jesy shrugs. “That's really individual, but I can tell you what I’ve seen, which is generally, people who have struggles with something like depression or anxiety, that can crop up. And just, you’ll need to work on your communication. The thing that works differently for empaths and telepaths, is that your reading of your partner isn’t enhanced, its impeded, so you’ve got to communicate even more clearly, because Harry, you can’t Read Louis.”

“Wait,” Harry says suddenly as something occurs to him, “Does it go the other way? Will Louis be able to Read me?”

Jesy opens her mouth but is interrupted by Louis who says, “Harry, I’m not…” He sighs, looking a bit discouraged, “Remember, love? I’m not going to be able to Read you.” He turns to Jesy, takes a deep breath and says, “I’m a D4, so I won’t have the power to Read him, will I?”

Jesy frowns and then says slowly, “Well, you know what? Let’s test you guys again. Has anyone mentioned that soulmate bonding can impact your power levels?”

They both nod, and she stands. “Do you guys want to come in separately? Or together?”

Harry and Louis answer at the same time, “Together,” and she smiles. 

They head into the exam room, and she has Louis sit to the side while she casts charm after charm on Harry. She frowns, makes several notes, and then has them switch places, repeating the process with Louis. Mr. Jenson sits quietly on his own little stool, watching the proceedings with avid interest. Jesy frowns some more, makes more notes, and then glances between them before saying quietly, “Let’s...go back into my office, okay?” 

Harry and Louis exchange a worried glance and Harry can’t help the thoughts that go through him as they follow her back into the other room and take their seats in front of the desk. Has she picked up something new on his scans, that she hadn’t seen before? Maybe she’s found something with Louis, something concerning?

Louis breaks the silence. “What is it?” he asks, the worry evident in his voice. “What did you find? We can tell it’s something, Jesy, so just. Tell us, please.”

Jesy looks at them for a long moment. “Have either of you tried do magic since you bonded?”

Harry stares at her, mind racing. Has he lost his magic too? Could that happen? “No,” he says slowly, “I don’t think so.” He glances at Louis who is shaking his head.

“I don’t do magic,” Louis says bluntly. “I don’t have enough power to do anything besides unlock doors, maybe turn on the lights. I live without it, I always have.” His voice isn’t bitter, Harry notes, just resigned to the only reality he’s known. 

“What about accidental magic?” Jesy says and Harry flushes. 

“Well, I exploded the door,” he says reluctantly.

“And, er, what were you doing at the time?” Jesy inquires carefully and Harry flushes.

“We were, err. Kissing. In the hallway. And I was going for my wand to open the door and it just, err. You know. Exploded.”

Jesy nods. “How about you, Louis.”

Louis shakes his head but Harry frowns. “I wonder,” he says without thinking, and Louis turns to look at him.

“The lights,” Harry says, and then whispers to Louis, probably being nowhere near as subtle as he thinks he is, “When we...when you...you know. When that happened.” Louis’ eyes widen as Harry continues, “Like with the door, I felt that pulse of magic, but with the lights? That wasn’t me. Was that you, Louis?”

Louis just shakes his head and says, “I’m not sure I would even know how that feels, Harry. I Mean, it was…” his voice trails off for a moment and he flushes. “It was an intense moment all around,” and they both turn to look at Jesy, who is smirking a bit.

“So,” she says, “Keep in mind, your bond is new, and it’s going to take a bit of time to settle, and you’re going to want to get a final assessment from your PHW, but right now,” she shuffles the papers in front of her, “Harry, right now I’ve got you assessed as a B2. And Louis,” the look in her eyes softens as she turns to him, an expression that Harry can’t quite read crossing her face. Louis’s fingers tighten around Harry’s to the point where it’s almost painful and all Harry can do is hold on, ignoring for the moment the news he’s just received.

“Louis,” she takes a deep breath, “I have assessed you as an A5.”

Harry feels his jaw drop open in shock. An A5? A-level talents are incredibly rare, and very,  _ very _ powerful. He turns to look at Louis, who’s gone chalk-white in shock.

“What?” Louis’ tone is flat, almost numb, but the grip on Harry’s hand tightens even further.

Jesy nods, compassion brimming in her dark eyes. “Yes. Like I said, that’s preliminary, but I will say that in my experience, the preliminary level never drops. Sometimes it stabilizes, sometimes it increases, but it never goes down.” She leans forward, and says quietly, “I ran the assessment charm four times, Louis, and it came out the same way each time. It’s not a false reading.”

Louis draws in a ragged breath and drops Harry’s hand to cover his eyes for a moment. Harry can see his jaw working as he fights for control. Finally, he wipes his eyes and his voice is hoarse as he says, “I don’t understand, how is that possible. I was a D4, Jesy. A no-talent D4. How can this happen?”

Jesy says, “Well, it’s possible Louis, that the power was always in you, but it’s been blocked because you’re tuned to Harry.”

Louis frowns and says, “What?”

“Oh,” Jesy exclaims, “Yes, that’s the other thing. You said you were a no-talent, but that’s not the case, Louis. I think you’re a twinned talent, like Harry. You spiked on creative magic. Are you an artist?”

“I’m a woodworker,” Louis whispers.

Jesy nods. “That makes sense, so that talent, it was always there, but you were blocked. The thing is, you’re also an Amp, Louis, and a powerful one with that rating, but you’re tuned only to Harry. You’ve never had access to that power because your power comes in conjunction with Harry’s. I imagine you’ll be able to function as his shield too, in crowded places. Maybe even without touching him. I really don’t know. There’s so much we don’t understand about the soulmate bond.”

Louis is staring at Jesy and then turns to look at Harry who stares back, overwhelmed.

“Holy shit,” Louis says finally, and Harry can’t help the flash of anxiety he feels. 

What if Louis is upset? Or resentful? What is this going to mean? And for himself, a  _ B2? _ This is going to change a lot of things. 

“Like I said,” Jesy is saying when Harry tunes back in, “You’re going to have to be reassessed when you get home. There are counselors who specialize in this exact thing, and there’s retraining you’re going to need, because you’re going to have to learn to control your higher power levels. And for you, especially, Louis.” The look on her face is pure compassion as she speaks. “This is going to be a very big adjustment for you, and I strongly recommend that you find someone with experience in this field to support you through it. I can give you some names. Where are you located?”

And just as Louis says “New York,” Harry says, “Boston” and they turn to face each other and, oh no, Harry thinks, that’s right. There’s still so much to talk about, so much left to settle, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed. He tries to take a deep breath, but it’s like his lungs have seized up and he can’t get enough air. His ears are buzzing and he feels like he’s looking at the world through the wrong prescription glasses, everything is wobbly and weirdly-proportioned. Somewhere in the background he dimly hear Jesy saying something to him, but he can’t make sense of it until he feels Louis’ hand on the his neck, pressing his head down between his knees.

“Breathe,” Louis says firmly, “You’ve got to breathe for me, Harry. C’mon, take a deep breath.” His fingers rub Harry’s neck and the buzzing fades as Harry inhales on a gasp. He sits, folded over with his head down for several long moments, Louis’ hand pressed firm between his shoulder blades as he breaths, finally sitting up and wiping his eyes.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, but Louis interrupts him.

“Harry,” he says firmly, “Do not, okay? Do not apologize. This is…” he runs his hands through his hair and Harry misses the feel of Louis’ touch on his back, grounding him. “It’s a lot, okay?”

Jesy just nods. “Louis’ right, Harry. This is going to take some time to adjust. Like I said earlier, change is hard, even good change. And you weren’t expecting this, either of you, which makes it harder. You’ll be okay, and you have each other to help you through it. Now,” and here she reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out a thick booklet. 

From across the desk, Harry can see the title,  _ So, Now You’ve Got a Soulmate! What Next? _ , written in a bright purple, bubbly font, and for some reason, the photo is of two kittens in a bucket and a golden retriever puppy holding a rubber duck. Jesy grimaces as she glances at the cover and sighs. “Anyway, here’s a brochure, just ignore how it looks, it’s actually got a lot of good info. The short version is, you guys are going to need to spend a lot of time together over the next month, to solidify the bond, so,” and here her voice softens, “Before you leave at least, you’ll need a plan for the next step. Once you’re home, get some support services in place, and I’d suggest getting your levels assessed in a week or so, they should have solidified by then. If you have any other questions before you disembark tomorrow, I’ll be around.” She hands them her card and says, “You can contact me at any time, both of you, even after you get home.”

She stands, and Harry and Louis follow suit. Before he knows it, Harry finds himself in the elevator with Louis, the two of them quiet, not looking at each other as they rise towards their own deck. Finally, Harry can’t stand it. As they exit the elevator and Louis moves ahead of him down the hall, he grabs Louis’ hand and says, “Louis. Wait.”

Louis turns and Harry sighs, because Louis’ face is back to the blank wall Harry had encountered when they’d first met. “Louis, please.” For some reason Harry wants to apologize. “I’m sorry, I know this is a lot. And it changes things for you. A lot of things, I know that.”

Louis just says, “It’s okay, Harry,” but all of a sudden, it doesn’t feel okay at all, and Harry feels a bolt of terror at the idea that Louis might just decide this is too much. He’s never heard of a case of a soulmate refusing to stay with his bondmate, but he’s also never heard of anyone going from a D4 to an  _ A-fucking-5, _ so it seems like the usual rules might not apply here.

Louis turns to walk down the hall towards their cabins, and Harry follows him. When he gets to his door, he turns to ask Louis what he wants to do, but Louis is already disappearing into his own cabin. Harry freezes, unsure if he should follow, and then Louis sticks his head back out and, sounding surprised, says, “What are you doing? Aren’t you coming in?”

Harry shakes his head, and trails after Louis into his cabin. The room is dim, and feels empty, and Harry gives a sigh of relief, not sure he could stand to be with the others right now when things feel so unsettled with Louis. Louis walks into his own room, and Harry takes a deep breath, and follows, aching now, not sure what’s wrong or how to fix it. 

It’s strange, he muses to himself, that he can believe, without a doubt, that Louis is his soulmate and yet, he doesn’t really know him at all, doesn’t know the right thing is to say to offer comfort, or understanding, doesn’t know how to hold Louis to offer him sanctuary from an overwhelming world, he doesn’t know what to do or how to help. And then Louis turns to look at him, and it hits Harry, he doesn’t need to know.

All he needs to do is ask.

He moves towards Louis carefully and then he says, “What do you need? How can I help?”

Louis gasps and then just holds out his arms, and Harry quickly wraps his own around him. Louis shudders, his body stiff for a moment, and then he just seems to collapse, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder and holding on tightly. They stand that way for what feels like ages, Louis breathing in long, shuddering gasps as Harry rubs small circles in Louis’ back and whispers in his ear, “I’ve got you, Louis. I’m right here, you’re okay. We’re okay.”

Finally, Harry feels Louis take a long, slow breath, and then he backs up just a bit so that he can look Harry in the eyes.

“Sorry,” he says, his voice sheepish, and Harry frowns, and says back to him the same words he’d said to Harry earlier, in Jesy’s office.

“Don’t apologize. This? It’s a lot. I know.” At that Louis rolls his eyes and smiles a bit, and Harry feels wave of relief pass over him.

“Yeah, okay. You do know.” Louis disentangles himself from Harry and flops face down on the bed. “I guess we’re both entitled to a freak out, huh?”

Harry sits down on the edge of the bed and, without thinking, begins rubbing Louis’ back. Louis groans and seems to melt into the duvet. “Oh Merlin, that feels good.” 

Harry moves, and straddles Louis to begin massaging his shoulders in earnest, marveling once again that this is just so easy, that he doesn’t have to guard against what Louis is feeling, that he’s not overwhelmed by it, doesn’t have more information than he knows what to do with. He delights in the feeling of Louis’ strong muscles under his hands, and enjoys the feel of Louis slowly melting as he works at the tight muscles.

“That’s so good,” Louis mumbles into the bed, his words almost slurring as he relaxes. 

As Harry works at the tight muscles, though, he can’t help but become aware of the press of Louis’ ass against his own body. His strokes begin to lengthen out, until he’s simply gently rubbing Louis’ back, sweeping his hands down and then back up again. He suddenly smiles to himself. He knows they have much to talk about, so many details to work out, but it hits him with such certainty, that’s all they are, details. And, as Louis shifts restlessly, and slowly, with not a lot of subtlety but clear intent, begins pressing back up against him, Harry knows as well that  _ discussion _ is not what he wants right now.

He leans down, and begins kissing his way along Louis’ jaw, who tilts his head to give him better access. 

“Do you…” Louis’ voice trails off for a moment, he sounds almost dazed, “Should we, you know, talk about...stuff?” He groans as Harry gently nips at his earlobe, his voice suddenly breathy. “Oh fuck, that’s...Merlin, Harry, that’s good.”

Harry makes his way to the back of Louis’ neck, and then begins kissing his way down the middle of Louis’ clothed back as a dark and thrilling desire takes hold. When he gets lower, he slides his hands under the long edge of Louis’ tank top to grab the elastic of his shorts. 

“Lift up,” he says softly, and Louis does, moaning softly as Harry slides his shorts and boxer briefs down his thighs, exposing his gorgeous ass. “Is this okay?” he asks, as he moves his face lower, now kissing his way along the upper edge of Louis’ well-defined glute. 

“Yeah, fuck, yes,” Louis breathes, and, as if he can’t help himself, begins to rock his ass up towards Harry. “Are you sure, do you want to?”

Harry hasn’t been this intimate with someone in a long time, and has a moment of fear until he remembers. “You have to tell me,” he reminds Louis, even as he starts to spread his generous cheeks, “I can’t Read you, you have to tell me if you don’t like it.”

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis says and then gives a cry as Harry leans in and begins licking his way down to his goal. “Aww, fuck, that’s not going to be an issue, I promise you. There’s nothing you could do that I won’t like.”

So Harry dives in, sliding his tongue down Louis’ body. Louis tastes of sweat and soap and boy, and it’s intoxicating. He moves like he simply cannot hold still, like he’s undone by what Harry is doing to him, and that’s even more intoxicating, Harry finds, loving every cry and groan that he’s dragging from Louis, who seems rapidly to be moving beyond coherent speech. Harry uses his tongue to open him up, alternating between deep, thrusting licks and gentle flicks on the delicate skin he finds there. Louis is arching up into Harry’s mouth, and Harry takes the opportunity to snake one hand around to the front of his body to grab hold of his hard cock, and is mildly surprised when Louis shouts, shoves back even harder and then comes all over Harry’s hand and the bed.

“Holy shit,” Harry breathes as he gives a last, long lick as he squeezes Louis through what looks to be a pretty great orgasm. He sits up and presses one hand firmly to his own aching dick, willing himself to wait. 

Louis collapses face down onto the bed, and Harry notes absently that he’s still wearing his shirt, which he’s now probably gotten come all over. He can’t help but feel smug that he’s the cause of this as Louis turns over to stare at him with wide, blue eyes, and yup, Harry was right, there’s come all over the front of his shirt.

“Fucking Merlin,” Louis finally says as his breathing starts to even out. “Holy Circe, Harry. That was…” His voice trails off as he glances down, and his eyes darken at the sight of the obvious bulge in the loose track shorts that Harry is wearing. Louis reaches out and tugs at the waistband. “Off,” he hisses, “Get these fucking off.”

Harry rolls onto his side for a moment, so that he can wiggle out of his shorts and underpants, and then looks at Louis, wondering what he had in mind. Louis slides down so that he’s flat on the bed, and then, tapping Harry’s leg, he says, “C’mon, give it to me.”

Harry doesn’t quite get what he means until Louis pushes him up to sitting and then attempts to yank him around so that Harry would be hovering over his body, and oh. Oh. Harry suddenly gets what it is he wants, and scrambles to reposition himself, reaching out to brace himself against the wall as he looks down at Louis’ face between his thighs, and then with a moan, feeds his cock into Louis’ open waiting mouth.

Louis sucks him down to the root and Harry’s eyes roll back in his head as he almost falls off of Louis and onto the floor. He’s on his knees, trying not to suffocate his soulmate, who seems determined to deepthroat him immediately. Louis reaches up and sets his hands on Harry’s hips and begins guiding them in a gentle motion, fucking in and out of his hot, willing mouth. His tongue is doing something indescribably great and Harry can’t look away from where his body is engulfed by Louis’ mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, “Louis, fucking hell, look at you.” There are tears in Louis’ face and this is hot and wet and messy and it’s never, ever been like this for Harry before and far, far too soon, he realizes, he’s going to come, and hard. 

“Fuck,” he whispers again, “Louis, can I…” his voice trails off and he can’t believe what he wants to do, it feels so filthy and sexy and incredible.

Louis pulls off to look at him. “Do it,” he says, “I don’t care, whatever it is that put that look on your face, fucking do it.” 

He looks surprised when Harry doesn’t put his cock back in his willing mouth, but instead, props himself against the wall with one hand, as he rises to his knees and wraps the other hand around himself, and begins jerking off roughly. Louis’ eyes widen and he gives a filthy grin. 

“Wanna come on me, Harry?” Louis licks his lips, his eyes dark as he tracks the movement of Harry’s hand. “Wanna come all over me and make such a mess? C’mon, baby, do it, I want to see you do it.”

And with that, Harry gives a long, low groan as he loses it, coming hard, his release hitting Louis’ neck and chin, and when Louis’ tongue snakes out to taste it, Harry shudders as his spent cock gives one last valiant effort. He’s frozen for a moment, still leaning on the arm braced against the wall, and then, with another groan, he sits up and flops down onto the bed next to Louis. He feels Louis’s hand slip into his own, and they lie there, side by side, holding hands and staring at the ceiling. 

“Merlin, I’m a fucking mess,” Louis says after a long moment and, looking at him, Harry smirks a bit because he has to agree.

“It was hot, though,” he offers thoughtfully, “Really fucking hot.”

“What,” Louis says, wiping away some of Harry’s come that’s dripping down his neck, “You coming all over me?”

“Yeah,” Harry says in a low voice, “Yeah, that.”

“Well,” says Louis, finally heaving himself up, first to sitting and then to standing. “You won’t hear me argue. Come on, let’s get in the shower.”

While they’re showering, Louis finally says, “So, I know there’s a lot we have to figure out, but the most pressing issue I think we have right now is tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Harry asks, closing his eyes as he soaps up his hair. Ducking under the water to start rinsing, he says, “What happens tomorrow.”

He feels Louis press in next to him to get under the spray as well. “Mainly, we have to get off this boat,” Louis says. “And figure out where we’re going from here.”

Harry sighs, wipes the water from his eyes and steps out from under the spray. “Yeah.” He feels overwhelmed and is comforted when Louis wraps his arms around him.

“Hey, love,” Louis whispers, and something about the steam and noise from the water makes Harry feel enveloped and surrounded in the best possible way. “It’s okay, right? We’ll get it worked out. I just want to be with you, you know?”

Harry nods, meeting Louis’ eyes. He tries to hold on to his earlier optimism that things will be okay, and feels it somewhere there inside of him, at the back of his mind. “It’s just so much to wrap my head around,” he says finally as Louis shuts off the water. “Like, a soulmate. Niall moving out. Where are we going to live? What do I do with my business, and then,” something strikes him and his eyes widen, “Fuck, Lou, we haven’t even talked about the whole power thing. I mean, Holy Circe, if Jesy is right? We’re powerful. Like, really powerful. I don’t know, I never really thought about that. I’m almost…” His voice trails off and he bites his lip anxiously as he looks at Louis, who is toweling off. “I’m almost scared to try using magic, you know? I mean, I wasn’t even trying and I exploded that door.”

Louis nods slowly. “I can’t even…” He frowns, “I can’t even fathom what it will feel like. I mean, I’ve accepted who I am, or,” here his voice catches a bit, “Who I  _ was, _ you know? So now, I have to change that sense of myself. Though,” and here he starts to grin a bit, “I know it’s so petty, but honestly? If Jesy is right, and I really am that powerful, there a part of me that’s going to enjoy going back to all those people who told me that I’d never amount to anything, that I wasn’t  _ worth _ anything because I didn’t have power. If I really do have power, Harry, I’m going to use it to help people who don’t. Because no one helped me until Liam.” 

Louis’ voice rings out in the room between them and suddenly, the words Harry didn’t even know he was feeling come out of his mouth.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

Louis stops, and stares at him, seemingly shocked into silence, and Harry continues. “I know,  _ I know, _ it’s way too early to feel that, or say it, but, Louis, I can’t help it. You’re…” He runs a hand through his wet hair, and without thinking, casts a quick drying charm. His hair goes from dropping wet to exceedingly dry and, Harry thinks sadly, very, very fluffy, and he sees Louis struggling not to laugh.

He turns slowly and, looking in the mirror, he sighs. “Well, so much for romantic declarations.”

“No,” Louis protests, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist as he rests his chin on Harry shoulder. “No, Harry, that was beautiful, and I’m not laughing,” and then he burst into a loud cackle of laughter, “I mean,” he tries to steel his features. “Okay, I’m laughing a bit, but not at that. Harry, I…” his voice trails off, and he stares at the reflection of the two of them in the mirror.

“You’re incredible, Harry, and I. Yeah. I feel the same way.”

He turns Harry around to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “And,” he says reasonably, “If you think about it, we’ve spent a lot of time together in the last nine days, so I do think that kind of jumpstarts a relationship, right? Like, we’ve been on the equivalent of like, twenty-seven dates or something.”

Harry gives up attempting to get his hair to de-fluff, and leans over to flatten it down with water instead. “Yeah?”

Louis nods and when their eyes meet in the mirror, gives Harry a smile so sweet he can feel it all the way to his toes. “Yeah. Now, c’mon, let’s get dressed. We need to find the others and tell them what’s going on.” He starts to move away from Harry to exit the bathroom and then turns back. “Give up on your hair, darling,” he advises, “I think it’s a lost cause this time around.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry sighs, and follows Louis back into the bedroom to get dressed. 

Louis checks and he’s got a text from Liam, letting him know that the rest of them are hanging out pool-side with vacation-sized margaritas. “At least,” Louis says, “I think that’s what he means. Liam, you’ll find out, Harry, can’t spell for shit.” He shows Harry the text, and Harry snickers because it says  _ Com to the pl we have magaritos. _

They finally get themselves up to pool-side, and spot their crew, and Harry can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, and it’s not until they get there that he realizes, Louis has been holding his hand since they left the room, and Harry hadn’t been able to Read any of the three people whom he’d accidentally touched in the crowded elevator.

He stares at Louis, shocked and then says, “Louis.” 

Something in his voice catches Louis’ attention, who turns to him, concerned. “Yeah, love, what’s up? Are you okay?”

“The elevator,” Harry says slowly, “It was crowded, Louis, and I didn’t Read anyone.” They stare at each other and then Harry sits, his mind spinning.

“So?” Zayn asks as they get settled and Perrie wanders over with more margaritas and a fresh plate of nachos. “What did Jesy say?”

“Well, you guys aren’t going to believe this,” Louis says with a small smile. “But, remember how Liam bounced up from a C3 to a B1?”

Liam and Zayn nod while Niall looks confused. 

“Of course,” Liam says, and then stops. “Wait. Are you saying…”

Louis nods, takes a deep breath and then looks helplessly at Harry. 

“We’ve both bounced.” Harry says, shocked at how calm and steady his voice sounds, giving away nothing of the butterflies in his stomach. “Jesy assessed me as a B2, and Louis, she assessed at an A-5.”

All three of the men level the same look of shock at Louis. 

“What?” breathes Liam, and suddenly, he leaps out of his chair to yank Louis to standing and wrap his arms around him, and Harry remembers what Louis had said, that Liam was the first person to help him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He sounds close to tears, and Harry can see how moved he is.

“No,” Louis says softly, the affection in his voice clear, “No, Li. It’s really true. Apparently I’m an Amp, like Niall, oh,” and here he looks at the man in question, “You’ll need to get assessed too, Ni, to see if you’ve shifted at all.” He turns back to Liam, and now they’re both smiling, tears in their eyes, “So yeah, apparently I’m an Amp too, but just for Harry. And,” he swallows, and Harry can see how close he is to breaking, “She said I’ve got some sort of creative talent too.”

Liam closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them, leaning in to give Louis a smacking kiss. “That’s,  _ Merlin, _ Louis, that’s incredible.”

He finally lets Louis go and sits back down.

“Well,” Louis says, getting himself settled back in his chair, and automatically draping his arm around Harry’s shoulders so he can toy with the floofy curls at the nape of Harry’s neck, “S’gonna be a massive pain, among other things, because now we have all this power and we don’t have any idea how to use it.” He snorts, “You should have seen what Harry did to his hair this morning with a drying charm.”

All four men look at Harry’s wet hair and snicker, and then Niall says judiciously, “Well, I mean, he’s not great with the hair styling charms on a good day, really,” and Harry resolves then and there to become an  _ expert _ in hair styling charms, thank you very much, Niall. 

Zayn says softly to Louis, “Have you?” and Louis just shakes his head. “You should, babe. You should try something. See how it feels.”

Harry can hear the tenderness in Zayn’s voice, and knows that there’s a history here that he wants to learn. He’s not jealous, exactly, but he has to acknowledge a smidge of envy that Zayn and Liam have gotten so many years with Louis, while he’s just starting out now. The idea that Louis has had hard times, times where he’s lost hope, known despair, maybe even believed the prejudices of the world that those without power are not valuable and worthwhile, this hurts Harry at the core of his being. He thinks now, sitting here with these men he’s grown so close to, that maybe spending the rest of his life helping Louis never to feel those things again might be a worthwhile goal. If this isn’t love, it’s looking a lot like something close to it, and Harry squeezes Louis’ hand and smiles to himself.

He sees Louis bite his lip a bit nervously, and then reach for the wand that he’s stashed in his thigh holster. 

Liam is nodding encouragingly, and again, Harry knows, there’s a backstory here. Louis looks at Niall and then at him, and takes a deep breath and says, “It’s just, as a D4, I wouldn’t even have enough power to lift that saltshaker right there.”

Niall and Harry nod, and then Niall says quietly, “Well, if Jesy’s right, you’ve got more than enough now. Do you know the spell?” There’s absolutely no judgement in his tone at finding out that Louis had been a D4, and Louis just nods, a bit jerkily.

“Yeah, learned the basics before I...left school.” He grasps his wand with determination and then, frowning in concentration, says the words while his hand traces the gesture in the air with his wand. 

The saltshaker rockets into the sky about a 100 feet above their heads and explodes.

As the salt rains down gently over them and a few other tables, causing people to glance up in surprise, Zayn just looks at Louis, who is staring into the sky with his mouth open in shock.

“Well,” he finally says, as he brushes salt from his shoulders, “Seems like you’ve got power now, babe.”

As they sit and enjoy the sunny afternoon, Niall finally addresses the elephant on the cruiseship. “So,” he says, taking a healthy drink of his margarita, “What have you two talked about, in terms of what happens next?”

Harry and Louis look at each other and Harry blushes just a bit, remembering the talk they were supposed to have that turned into, well, other things. “Err,” he says finally, “We haven’t really made any decisions yet.” He takes a deep breath, heart racing a bit, “What about you three?”

Liam and Zayn look at Niall and then at each other. Niall finally says softly, “I’m going to move to New York, Harry,” and Harry feels his throat tighten.

It’s not that it’s a surprise. From the moment he realized what was happening in front of him, Harry knew this was the only reasonable decision for Niall to make. He’s a freelance Amp, so he can work anywhere. Harry knows Liam often travels for his business, and no one quite knows how Zayn does what he does, apparently he’s got a home office which he disappears into from time to time, and emerges millions richer, or something like that. Harry isn’t sure, and as far as he can tell, Liam isn’t really either. So it only makes sense for Niall to move in with them. They need to be together, and there really isn’t anything keeping Niall in Cambridge. Anything but Harry.

He swallows, looks down until he’s sure he won’t cry and then looks up, to find Niall watching him anxiously. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’ll...I’ll miss you though.”

Niall is staring at him, confused, and then looks at Louis, who’s also looking at him. Harry starts to feel a bit stubborn as he looks back. “What?”

Niall says, “I just thought, maybe you’d be coming to New York too.”

Harry blanches, staring at him, but it’s Louis who says easily, “We haven’t worked that out yet, Nialler. For now, I’m going to go to Cambridge with Harry, to give us some time to figure it out.”

Harry stares at him, forgetting the others who are listening in avidly as he says, “Wait, what?”

Louis shrugs. “Well, I can take more time from work, I’ve already emailed my boss about it.” He squeezes Harry’s hand and says softly, “Hey, come on. There’s nothing to freak out about, we’ll work it out. I know you’ve got your work space, and your business. But we’re in this together, right? So we’ll make it work.”

His work. That’s right. Harry suddenly wonders what the hell all these changes are going to mean for his business, his work as a Finder, and then, his jaw drops, and he turns to Zayn, all other details forgotten as he says urgently, “Zayn.  _ Zayn.” _

Zayn turns from where he was saying something to Liam, and looks concerned. “What is it, Harry?”

Harry feels his heart start to pound. “Zayn, my power levels. And Louis is my Amp, with an A5 rating.  _ Zayn, we have to try again.  _ We have to try and Find Grace.”

Zayn’s eyes widen, and then, for one moment, his lip trembles, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Liam sit bolt upright, and then Zayn just nods. 

Harry, Niall, Liam and Louis head quickly back to the suite, while Zayn goes to find Layla. Harry stops into his own cabin to gather his working bag, and Louis follows him into the room. Maintenance has been busy, and his door has been replaced, but thankfully, it opens easily for them, and they walk into the cabin. As soon as the door is shut, Louis is on him, wrapping his arms around Harry and just...holding him, tightly. Harry can feel the strength flowing from him, and winds his own arms around Louis and they stand, still and silent for a long moment.

Finally, without words, for there’s nothing really to be said now, Harry gathers his things, and clasping Louis’ hand, makes his way into the other cabin. Layla is there, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she looks at Harry, her eyes huge in her white face. Standing next to her is a dark-skinned woman with exuberant curly hair, who has one hand pressed against Layla’s back. She nods to Harry.

“I’m Merry, Layla’s girlfriend,” she says quietly. “Thank you, Harry, for doing this.”

Harry just nods back, and turns to the work. He repeats the steps he’d gone through before. He cleanses the space, lights the candle, accepts the herbs from Zayn with a small smile, and begins his prep. He tunes out the others standing quietly around him as he carefully minces the herbs. He fills the bowl, and then leans Grace’s picture against it, touching the smiling face with one finger. 

“Okay,” he says finally, taking a deep breath, “It’s time to start.”

“Where do you want me?” Louis asks and Harry starts a bit because, oh yeah, things aren’t the same, and now Louis is his Amp, not Niall. 

“Um, how about right here on the couch behind me. Maybe put your hands on my shoulders?”

Louis nods, and moves into position. Harry closes his eyes for one moment, and then opens them, looks around and says, “Let’s begin.”

He draws the circle, calls the word of power, and there’s a blinding flash of light that dissipates quickly, leaving them all blinking. Harry scrapes the chopped herbs into the water and very carefully, gingerly casts to heat the water in the bowl. It wouldn’t do to vaporize it, and he’s understanding more and more clearly that he does not yet know his own power. He hopes it will be enough.

He inhales the steam and murmurs once again the words for his Finding trance, and dives deep within himself, and oh. Oh dear Circe. Where he’d always before seen his power as a well, small but steady and faithful, now he can clearly feel within himself that things are different. He’s always had to be careful not to overdraw and leave himself bone-dry but instead of a well, now he has a great lake within him, and realizes that no matter how much he pulls from it, he could never take too much. A deep joy begins to rise in him as he dives into the vast green depths, and for a long moment, he feels as if he’s floating, suspended in the buoyancy of his own newfound power. But then, as he looks more closely, he realizes he’s not alone. His own power flows through him and fills him, and surrounding the green light within him, he sees a deep blue, and knows.  _ It’s Louis.  _ Louis is with him, and somehow, their power resonates, generating something together that is greater than anything either of them could create alone.

He opens his eyes and stares into the water, past the herbs, past the bowl, and into that dark that he’d found before. He’s blocked at first, but the block is no longer a solid wall, it’s simply a curtain, and he easily pushes past it into the light. He Sees the golden Tree of Life necklace, and it’s around the neck of the curly-haired girl in the photo. She’s sitting at a table in what looks like an elementary school library with a few other kids, and she’s drawing a picture of two figures holding hands, one tall, one small. Harry hears the voice of an adult saying “That’s a lovely picture, Marie, who is that?” and the little girl says softly, “That’s my mama. I miss her.”

And then, Grace’s head snaps up, and she’s looking right at Harry, and she says clearly, with great delight, “Oh! There you are! You found me!” 

Her eyes sparkle as she grins, and Harry hears the adult say, “Marie? Who are you talking to?”

Grace doesn’t look away from Harry, just says, “Come and get me, okay? I want to go home,” and then Harry is shoved from the vision. 

He gasps, his heart racing and then, turning to Layla, he says, “I know where she is. I Found her.”

Things move quickly from there, and it’s breathtaking, what you can accomplish when you have the kind of resources Zayn has. Because Grace was taken out of state, the FBI are involved, and Harry finds himself in the ship’s Captain’s office, giving his statement to an officer, and providing the record of his vision. It’s not a comfortable process, and Harry is thankful that Louis refuses to leave his side, shielding him from the agent’s assistant who has to lay hands on him to collect the vision. Finally, the vision is collected and verified, and a judge issues the orders. Layla and Merry leave by helicopter with the FBI agents, and hours later, when they’re all back in Zayn and Liam’s cabin, late in the night, Zayn gets the call.

Grace and Layla have been reunited. Samuel and his wife are in custody of the FBI, facing charges of kidnapping. A judge has granted Layla immediate and sole custody of Grace, and they are, even as Zayn speaks to her, in-flight back to New York. Layla asks to speak to Harry, and, sobbing, thanks him over and over again. The he hears a muffled voice in the background, and Layla says, “Grace wants to say something, Harry.”

Harry waits and hears some rustling and then a small voice says “Hi, Harry.”

Harry takes a deep breath. “Hi, Grace.”

He can hear the smile in her voice, and she sounds far more mature than a four year old generally would as she says “I know you’re tired, but thank you for Finding me, Harry. I knew you would, but it took a long time.”

“I know,” Harry whispers. “I tried, but I wasn’t strong enough.”

“It’s okay, Harry, I know you did your very best. Now, tell uncle Louis that I love him and he has to take care of you because you’re tired now, and when you get married, you’ll be my uncle too.”

It doesn’t occur to Harry until after he ends the call to wonder how, exactly, she knew that he was going to marry Louis, when he’s just wrapping his head around that hopeful thought himself.

“Come on, darling,” Louis says gently, pulling him to standing and winding an arm around his waist. “I’ll take you back to your cabin so you can get some sleep.” He guides Harry out into the hallway to his cabin. It’s late now, heading towards two in the morning, and it hits Harry that he hasn’t packed, hasn’t gotten ready to leave, but when he voices this concern, Louis just rolls his eyes at him.

“Harry, come on. Zayn owns the fucking cruise line. We don’t have to worry. You can take all the time you need tomorrow.”

Mechanically, Harry heads into the bathroom. He brushes his teeth and then turns on the shower. He’s standing still under the stream of water when he hears the slider open, and Louis slips in next to him.

Harry turns to look at him. Louis is tired too, shadows under his eyes and stubble on his chin, but he looks...different somehow. Like he’s made peace with something, deep within himself. His eyes are clear and he’s smiling a bit as he takes in Harry’s wet and bedraggled appearance. He soaps up the pouf and gently turns Harry around to scrub his back, and Harry lets his head drop forward.

“You okay?” Louis asks, and Harry snorts.

“I could ask you the same thing. Was that…” his voice trails off, he doesn’t even know what the question is that he’s trying to ask. He hears Louis take a deep breath.

“I’ve never seen anything like that, Harry,” Louis says quietly. “I’ve never  _ felt _ anything like that, the power that was running through us. It was overwhelming. I know it’s scary, Harry, but think of what we can do, together. I know we don’t have anything to be afraid of, as long as we’re together.”

And suddenly, Harry knows, Louis is right. They’ve got a lot to learn, for sure, how to deal with all of this power. They’ve also got a lot to decide, it’s true. But beyond all that, as overwhelming as it feels, Harry knows he’s found something amazing. Something wonderful, that’s now worth everything to him. Something he hadn’t even known he was missing, but now that he has Louis, he’s never, ever going to let him go.

He opens his eyes, turns and takes in the sight of this man looking back him. Takes in the vision of Louis’ beautiful face, strong body, and realizes, he can switch to his inner eye, and Sees the warm blue glow of Louis’ power that surrounds him like an aura. He smiles, and leans to kiss Louis long and slow, and then pulls back.

“There you are,” he says softly, “I’ve Found you.”

**JUNE 2018**

Harry shuts and locks the door to his office, and then shoves his wand into his thigh holster. Louis had finally convinced him to try one a few months before, and Harry reluctantly had to agree, a well-made thigh holster is very comfortable, and is actually easier to use than a back holster.

As he turns away from the office, he glances up to the apartment lights above, where his tenant, Mark, a young Finder just out of college now lives. Mark’s a C3 with a C1 Finding talent, and Harry has been very happy to welcome him as a partner in the business. Mark manages their Cambridge office, and took over the apartment when Harry moved into the house that he and Louis had bought, which is about a ten minute walk from where the office is.

As Harry walks, reveling in the soft breeze of the early June night, he smiles, seeing two familiar figures moving towards him. Raising his hand in greeting, he walks quickly towards them, smiling when he gets closer.

“Hey, baby,” Louis says cheerfully, as Francie, their very excited Keeshond puppy, bounces around in delight, her tongue lolling as she finally sits on the sidewalk, happily accepting the scritches Harry gives him. “How was work?”

Things have changed for Harry in the nine months since, clutching Louis’ hand, he’d walked off of that cruiseship. The adjustment hasn’t been easy for either of them, as they’ve gone through retraining to learn to master their new power levels, and as they’ve worked together to figure out their lives.

Niall had moved to New York to live with Zayn and Liam, and had signed on as a freelance with an Amp Management agency. He’d also been intrigued by Louis’ woodworking, falling in love with the feel of the tools and the grain of the wood under his hands, and for the last several months he has been apprenticing with the woman who’d trained Louis, in the no-maj compound. He’d also increased his power levels, moving from a C3 to a B4, which opened up a lot of opportunities for him as an Amp, but he’d recently confided to Harry that he was enjoying the woodworking so much, that he was planning to move into that as a full-time profession. 

Harry and Louis have ended up splitting their time between New York and Cambridge. They’ve managed to keep Harry’s increased power levels from becoming widely known, and he still works occasionally as a Finder for lost items, but he’s added consulting to the FBI in kidnapping cases as a side gig. That work is incredibly difficult for him, and he’s come to rely more and more on Louis’ warmth and grounding when he takes on one of those cases. The FBI assessor had told him bluntly that he didn’t have the temperament for the harder cases, so they FBI tends to call him in parental kidnappings, where Harry feels like he can do the most good, and very rarely do those turn out badly. 

When they’re in New York, Zayn, Liam and Niall’s town house is their home base, and Harry has gotten less uncomfortable with letting Zayn shower him with affection and gifts. Louis had finally made him understand that Zayn’s primary love language was gifts, and that it was actually hurtful to Zayn when Harry struggled to accept the things he offered. Harry’s not sure he’ll ever get used to the luxury that surrounds him now, but it does make life a lot easier, especially things like having use of Zayn’s jet to get them to and from New York, not to mention Zayn has insisted that he and Louis accompany the rest of the men on vacations, so in the last nine months, Harry has spent the Winter Solstice skiing in Switzerland, the Vernal Equinox in Ireland, and they’re heading off for two weeks in Africa in the morning, to celebrate the Summer Solstice.

And maybe that’s indicative of all the ways Harry feels like his life has expanded since meeting Zayn and Liam, and bonding with Louis. In addition to the men, he’s also gained another sister in Layla and has developed a firm bond with Grace as well, who is precocious and hilarious, with a wry sense of humor that belies her age. She’s also get a strange and powerful precognitive gift, and is learning to walk the Astral plane. It’s a little spooky. She doesn’t talk much about the time she spent with her dad. He’s been convicted of kidnapping and is spending time in federal prison, and Grace has stated firmly that she’s not going to see him again, ever. Given her gifts, Harry thinks she Knows something they don’t, and occasionally she and Zayn will exchange significant glances. 

Harry grabs Louis’ hand, swinging it gently as he takes Francie’s leash, guiding her along as they walk towards home.

Belatedly he says, “Oh, work was good. I swear, Mark is getting better and better, and he’s got a real gift for Finding lost jewelry. We did a joint Finding today, because we were remoting with the guy who has the metal detector charm, remember? And I swear to Gandalf, he found the ring before I did.” He squeezes Louis’ hand and, unable to help himself, drops a kiss onto his cheek. “How about you?”

Louis smiles, and Harry sighs in relief. Louis had had a much harder time than Harry had with the changes brought on by their bonding. Not surprisingly, Harry thinks, given the enormous shift in power levels he’d experienced. He’s become something of a celebrity, much to his chagrin, as he’d worked to learn to control the powerful gift he now possesses. He’d ended up deciding to quit his handyman job, though he still goes regularly to the non-maj compound to visit his friends. Their bonding had unleashed his creative gift as well, and he now has two studios, one in New York and one in Cambridge, where he creates the most beautiful sculptures out of wood and glass that Harry has ever seen. 

He’s also become a powerful voice for the powerless, working with the lawmakers and administrators to develop support programs for D-level talents, not to mention a brilliant PR company that’s changing the landscape for these people, if his fan mail is any indicator.

“It was a good day. I think I finished that commission for Liam’s client, for the hotel in the South of France? So we might just have to stop by on our way back from Africa to see the installation.”

Harry hums, thinking over his calendar. “Okay, sounds good, but I have to be back the beginning of October, I’ve got some things booked in New York.”

He shakes his head, a bit disbelieving at the turns his life has taken, nothing he ever could have predicted. Then again precog has never been his gift. 

As they walk up the stairs to their front door, he looks at Louis, who is smiling in the glow of the setting sun, and feels his heart race. He stops, and raises one hand to cup Louis’ cheek, who looks at him quizzically.

“I love you, Louis.”

Louis smiles back, and leans up to press a kiss to Harry’s mouth. “I love you too, baby. You know that. Are you okay?”

Suddenly, Harry knows exactly what he wants to say, and this,  _ this _ is the moment, he feels it in his bones. 

He steps off of the stairs, and carefully ties Francie’s leash to the bannister and then, grabbing Louis’ hand, he takes a deep breath, and drops to one knee. He thinks mournfully of the ring hidden upstairs in his underwear drawer, where it’s been for the last three months, but he doesn’t want to take the time go get it.

Louis’ eyes widen and he looks at Harry, baffled. “Um, Harry? What the fuck are you doing?”

Harry grins up at him and says, “What does it look like I’m doing, Lou?”

Louis takes a careful breath and then says cautiously, “Well, it sort of looks like you might be proposing.”

Harry presses a kiss to the back of Louis’ hand. “Lou, I know we’re soulmates and everything, which means we’re destined to be together, but I just.” His voice thickens for a moment, emotion overwhelming him. “I love you so much, and more than that, I  _ choose _ you, Lou. I choose to love you, to be with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know it’s been hard, figuring all this out, and I know it’s been a huge adjustment, but I’m so thankful for you, Louis, every single day.”

Louis reaches down, his touch gentle as he cradles Harry’s face, and his blue, blue eyes are shimmering. 

“So,” Harry takes a deep breath, “Will you do me the honor? Will you marry me?”

As one tear flows over and down Louis’ cheek, Harry sees him smile, feels him lean in as he kisses Harry, slow and gentle, with such tenderness that Harry wonders how on earth he ever survived without Louis in his life. 

And then, Harry sees Louis’ face stretch wide in a grin as he yanks Harry to standing, kisses him again and murmurs in his ear just one word.

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to [come say hi on Tumblr!](https://phd-mama.tumblr.com/) If you enjoyed this, the rest of my stuff can be [found here!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/works)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I would love it if you left a kudos or a comment, they all make my day brighter and inspire me to write more!
> 
> Even better, [here's the rebloggable post](https://phd-mama.tumblr.com/post/162682656623/its-a-better-place-since-you-came-along) on Tumblr!!


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